


viscera

by faevalentine



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Finnick Odair Lives, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 75,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faevalentine/pseuds/faevalentine
Summary: Sometimes, she likes to sink to the deep end of chlorine pools and pretend like she might let herself drown.
Relationships: Finnick Odair/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 106





	1. and what of my wrath

**MARI FISCHER HAS NEVER CONSIDERED** herself to be particularly lethal. She knows how to gut a fish, and she knows the right places to hit a person to kill them instantly. But she never really considered those skills to be useful — not _really_. She never expected that she would have to use them, not even when her best friend won his Games only four years ago. She never ever thought that she'd too would be picked to go in only ten days before her nineteenth birthday.

Yet here she is.

Her chest heaves, desperately taking in air before she has to struggle for her life again. The air is dry and the sun is hot. Mari has sweat running down her face and her chest in thick rivulets. She keeps a tight grip on her weapon and hopes the sweat doesn't make its way onto her palm.

Dust storms, killer scorpions and quicksand have forced Mari and the tribute from District Ten together. They are the last. It is a miracle that they have survived this long at all. Mari can feel dehydration taking hold.

District Ten looks weak as he stumbles down a sand dune to where Mari waits, the bloodied corpse of the male District One tribute strewn a few meters away. Her knife drips with freshly spilled blood. She must look like something out of a nightmare. Covered in blistering skin and dust, dripping with sweat and blood, a crazed look in her eyes.

The right thing to do would be to sacrifice herself so this boy can live. That would really stick it to the Capitol. But here's the problem — the whole thing is a trap. Mari has not come this far, sacrificed so much of her humanity and her sanity, just to _die_. Mari will not let herself be killed. In the end, the Capitol wins and Mari is going to kill this boy just to stay alive. They get what they want after all.

Realising, if a bit slowly, that they are the last two left, District Ten starts to gain a little speed. He looks a bit more alive as adrenaline courses through his veins. He starts to draw closer.

He has a small knife, it's concealed in his sleeve, but Mari can see it glinting in the glaring sun. He breaks out in a sprint, and Mari stands her ground. She has nowhere to go anyway, this ends here.

Once he's within range, Mari launches herself at him. He's a scrawny thing so the first thing she does is twist the knife from his hand. It drops into the sand below them, and is buried in their continuing struggle. He's smart enough to keep a grip on the hand she's holding her cutlass machete, but she slams her knee up into any soft part of him that she can. The force has his grip loosen, freeing up the weapon.

He tries to push against her so she has no room to wield the cutlass. It works for a few seconds, until Mari finds a fresh cut in his side and _digs_ into it. He crumples to the ground, crying out in pain. Her fingers come out bloody.

Mari takes her chance. He is weak from dehydration and starvation, his adrenaline rush is clearly wearing off and she's pressing down on his now bleeding wound. She plants a foot firmly onto his stomach, swings the machete above her head and slams it down into his heart.

He screams something bloodcurdling.

Mari doesn't realise she's crying until the cannon goes off to signal Ten's death, and she's announced as the winner of the 69th Hunger Games.

She collapses next to his dead body, sweat and tears and blood running down her face. She wants to scream too, but no sound will come out. Only open mouth sobs that turn into a silent scream as the air-lifter takes her out of the arena.

Sprawled out on the metal platform, chest heaving, Mari vows that she will kill President Snow right then and there. He cannot, and will not, turn her into a killer and _not_ suffer the consequences. Her brother always said that violence isn't the answer, but Mari is _really_ starting to think that it might be.


	2. but now im underwater

**MARI** **HAS ALWAYS LIKED TO TOE** the line between life and death. Sometimes, she likes to sink to the deep end of chlorine pools and pretend like she might let herself drown. Weighed down and crossed legged at the bottom. She sees Finnick distorted above her, standing over the edge and peering down at her as tendrils of her flaxen hair reach out. She imagines that she could fill her lungs with water and float peacefully toward death. . . But that would be too easy, and Snow would never let her. He surely has plans for the exact way her life is supposed to pan out from here, she very much doubts that drowning in a Capitol pool has a part in that. (If Snow gets his way, she will probably die a slow and miserable death — though she hopes he will be dead long before that).

Regardless, Finnick would stop her if she tried to drown herself. Mainly because it would be unfair. It's not like he wants her to suffer, it's not about _that_. It's more about the fact that they are in this together, and it would be unfair of her to die and for Finnick to live. To leave him in this world alone would be unusually cruel.

She pushes up from the bottom of the pool, coming to the surface with a gasp. Her chest heaves air back into her lungs, and she shoves wet hair from her eyes.

"We should leave", Finnick says from his spot on the recliner chairs, "They'll be out of scoring soon."

Mari gives him a withering look as she wades toward the edge of the pool. Like she'd forget. There's only one day until they're getting sent in, she counts it down every year, she would _never_ forget. He replies with a raised eyebrow, reminding her that they're on the same side. He's not out to make her feel worse, he's just reminding her of what they have to do to survive. He hands her a towel to dry off with after she pushes herself from the water.

"Thanks", she says quietly.

Finnick says he'll meet her in the dining area after she's done cleaning up. He leaves for his room. Mari trudges into the shower, peeling off her wet bathing suit and discarding it on the floor to be picked up later. The warm water on her skin is a pleasant change from the pool. It shoots from the jets on the wall with a citrusy smelling soap that rinses the chlorine from her skin. She scrubs her hair within an inch of itself. She doesn't like the way the Capitol showers make her hair smell, but it's better than the smell of chlorine. Chlorine is worse, it stings her nose and is everything that District Four isn't. District Four is salt and sea spray and the smell of fish being lugged out of the water in nets. It's _real_. The Capitol isn't. The chlorine is a reminder of how fake everything is here, how manufactured, how staged.

Mari dries off using a fresh towel, and then wraps it tightly around herself before slipping out the door, down the hall and into her room. She pulls on a pair of leggings and a rich blue tank top, and she already knows that Evey will be appalled at the sight of it.

"Marina!"

She can hear their Capitol escort, Burch, bounding down the hallway toward her. She sighs, opening the door before he can knock. Burch halts to a stop just in front of her, his eyes wide as they often are. He's obtained several new piercings since she saw him this morning.

"Yes, yes", she nods, pushing Burch back into the hall as she closes her door behind her, "I'm coming."

" _Marina_ ", he exclaims, falling in next to her — she's given up correcting him on her name, "You and Finnick _must_ speak to the Petrov's. They simply _adore_ the little Coral girl. She reminds them of their dog."

Mari grits her teeth and resists the urge to grab his shoulders and shake until he understands. Until he understands how _wrong_ all of this is, how cruel.

"I'll make sure to", she grumbles instead.

That seems to satisfy Burch.

Evey shrieks something hellish when they enter the dining area. Their stylist has very high expectations for Mari even when it comes to casual wear, mostly because Finnick is always so put together. And it's not like Mari doesn't care, as much as it is the complete antithesis of everything Mari has grown up as, she finds that she enjoys dressing up somewhat (or as much as she can in this situation). She just doesn't see the need to look presentable when they're in private. She's got no one to impress.

Mari rolls her eyes and ignores Evey as she grabs at bits of her clothing and hair in a panic. Their tributes this year, Coral and Dylan, fourteen and sixteen respectively, are sitting too far away from each other on the massive grey couch. Coral looks pale and Mari can see even from here that she's shaking. Dylan doesn't look a lot better. Finnick is sitting on the adjacent armchair, looking every bit _Finnick Odair: Capitol Extraordinarie_ as he usually does. (The difference between him alone and him with others is so fucking _distinct_ ).

She brushes Evey off her and deposits herself on the side of the couch closest to where Finnick is sprawled. The training scores are being announced in a matter of about ten minutes, and Mari is trying to forget how similar this picture is to her Games a mere seven years ago. She tries not to think about the missing weight of Oscar by her side. They never were particularly close but she doesn't like to think about how he's not here anymore.

Burch sits between their two tributes, and turns the massive television on. It's already broadcasting the program and Caesar Flickerman and his co-host are blabbering away about Capitol nonsense. Mari watches Dylan tense up from the other end of the couch.

Both Dylan and Coral have been reluctant to accept her help. Coral has been mostly quiet, and Dylan has practically doted on Finnick the entire time. It comes with mentoring alongside Finnick Odair, she supposes. Dylan clearly does not trust her judgement and seems to be angling at being the very next golden boy. Mari can't say that it doesn't frustrate her. She wishes Dylan would understand what it means to win, what it means that she's on the other side of these Games. But he doesn't — as much as Finnick tries and as much as she tries — she fears that Dylan doesn't understand, and she fears that it will be his downfall. Mari dreads having to apologise to their families, because what she's done will never be enough.

Finnick reaches forward and puts a hand on her knee in comfort. But it's gone again as quickly as he's done it.

Burch shushes them when Caesar starts to announce the scores. Coral is announced first and gets a three, Burch says something reassuring. Dylan gets an eight and Evey and Burch erupt into cheers. Finnick says something sincere and charming, while Mari tries to breathe through the _thump thump thump_ of blood in her ears.

The scores continue on, and none really come as a surprise to Mari. Or at least not until Caesar gets to District Twelve, which has been a completely unpredictable since the moment Katniss Everdeen volunteered for her younger sister.

The boy, Peeta, with his crooked jaw and soft eyes, gets an eight. Katniss, olive skinned and grey eyed, gets an _eleven_. Evey near shrieks.

Before Mari or Finnick can diffuse the situation, and perhaps put their tributes slightly at ease, Burch has them up and is ushering them toward the prep team that has just arrived at the front door. Finnick promises the two that they will have a meeting before the interviews tonight and then he lets them leave in the flurry of chiffon and glitter that is Evey and her prep team. On his way out Burch adamantly demands that they too call a prep team up so they can get ready for the party later.

Mari feels like she can finally breathe again when the doors shut behind them. Finnick touches her shoulders.

"You okay?", he asks, sounding worried.

Mari pulls her still damp hair off the back of her tank top, and nods, "As much as I can be."

Wordlessly, he pulls her into a hug. It's warm, it's good, and mostly importantly it's Finnick. Without any pretences, without any Capitol fanfare. It reminds her of before either of them won their Games, when they were just two kids digging for treasure in the sand, splashing in the waves, and splitting oysters on the docks. She presses her face against his shoulder, winds her arms around his back and breathes.

"Thanks", she says, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"It's okay", he drops an affectionate kiss to her hair.

She pulls away, rubbing at her eyes, trying to stop the tears before they start to form. It's difficult to articulate how stressful it is to be back in the Capitol, especially in the midst of the Games. Everyday here brings up all the memories that Mari spends the rest of the year trying desperately to forget they exist.

"Burch is right", Finnick says, with a grimace that Mari cherishes because it is all her own, "We should get ready."

Mari snorts, " _I_ should get ready. You're fine."

Finnick rolls his eyes, a smirk on his lips. _Sure_ , he needs to get changed, but Mari is right. No one needs to do much of anything for Finnick Odair to look good. The Capitol will take him any way that he is offered up to them.

Mari has to try a little harder.

To put it simply, Mari is just a little bit plain. Not unpleasantly so, and not to say she isn't attractive. She's just not exactly desirable as she is. She's been able to get away with it thus far, Burch has been meeting with all possible sponsors and she and Finnick have been doing their best to seem approachable and relatable to their tributes — which means looking as District Four as they can. But now, with the Games steadily approaching, Mari will have to offer herself up to a prep team.

"It takes work to look this good", Finnick smiles.

He's wrong of course. When called, his prep team will spend all of half an hour on him. He manages to look heartbreakingly beautiful even when he drags himself over to her house in the dead of night after a particularly terrible nightmare.

"We'll see", Mari laughs, if a little obnoxiously, "Just call the prep teams up."

He uses the comm unit on the wall to let the prep team know, and they barely get more than five minutes alone before Mari is being ushered into her room and one of the teetering women is plucking hairs and applying thick lotions to her skin, while the other two run brushes through her damp hair. This is the part Mari hates. She's not so irritated a few hours later when she's looking at herself in the mirror, beyond stunning. (Even though she feels like a plaything for the Capitol). But she hates the ripping and the removing and the tugging and the squeezing — it's painful and it's frustrating. It feels like they're removing every inch of her that she put there herself, every blemish, every patch of hair, every blister. It's like being stripped raw, and rebuilt the way they want her to be. She doesn't enjoy the process, but she puts up with it for the same reason she puts up with everything else — she'd rather this over death.

Barely thirty minutes in, when her hair is being tugged at from every angle so they can sew in hair extensions, Finnick and his prep team enter her room. Finnick is ready, as predicted, and his prep team rush to immediately grab Mari's hands, starting to file her nails. They've done barely anything to him, his hair is a little more immaculate than it was thirty minutes ago, he has a slight smattering of makeup but she can't tell where, and he's dressed in an all together plain button down shirt and slacks. But he looks _good_ , and Mari's heart might ache a little, but she cant really be sure.

"What did I say before", Mari raises an eyebrow.

Finnick nods, she cant see his face but she's sure his eyes are rolling back into his head, "Yeah, yeah."

He takes a seat at the top end of her bed, watching as the now five people fuss over Mari. It takes another hour of prepping until everyone is being forced out of the room so a now present Evey can squeeze her into some monstrosity that she's brought up in a cloth bag. Once it's on, after a bit of effort, Evey positions Mari in front of the mirror and steps out of the way.

"What do you think?"

It's a always a bit of a shock to see herself after these things, though by all means after seven years she should be used to it. The extensions bring her hair to her waist, looking like a cleaner version of the thick waves she gets after a day in salt water. The dress is something else entirely, it's made of a material that reminds her of fish scales, and it changes colour in the light. Shades of pink, blue, purple and green. The dress cinches at her waist and forms a V at her bust, the hemline stopping mid-calf. It makes her look wildly different, and she always appreciates Evey's homages to District Four.

"It looks gorgeous, Evey", and she really isn't lying when she says that, "Thank you."

Evey shrieks, leaping into a hug, avoiding any delicate parts of Mari's outfit, "I'm so glad!"

It doesn't take long for Evey to force a pair of lilac coloured heels onto Mari's feet and usher her out into the dining area where Finnick awaits.

"You look gorgeous", Finnick says.

And Mari knows it's _Finnick Odair_ talking, and he's saying it like that for the benefit of Evey, but she still blushes. Mari gives Finnick a harsh look when she knows Evey can't see her face, warning him to tone down the charm (on her at least). Finnick just grins.

Evey rushes off to attend to their tributes, leaving Finnick and Mari alone again.

"I meant it", Finnick glances down at her.

Mari only raises her eyebrows. She opens the front door for them, letting them out into the hallway.

"Of course I look gorgeous", Mari says, pressing a button to call the elevator, "That's their whole job."

Finnick shakes his head, looking almost imperceptibly disappointed, "No, Mari—"

The ding of the elevator opening cuts him off, and one Haymitch Abernathy is there to greet them. He raises his ever present flask in greeting.

"Hello, _lovebirds_ ", he taunts.

Mari rolls her eyes, stepping into the contraption. Finnick follows after and mashes a few buttons so the doors close.

"Hello, Haymitch", Mari says, bemusedly.

Mari likes Haymitch, she honest to god does. The lovebird thing is frustrating. He's a little annoying, a bit of a drunk, and he likes to push buttons, but he's mostly a nice man. And they're all haunted by their Games, so she doesn't really blame him for his outbursts or occasional abrasiveness. He's given up on trying to save his tributes, which she understands, especially with a death rate as high as the one District Twelve has.

"An eight and an eleven", Finnick muses, "You and Effie must be proud."

Haymitch darkens a little, "Are we ever."

Mari has been hearing murmurs about Katniss Everdeen all week, but she hadn't really thought that much of her until the training scores were announced. District Twelve has never been much of a contender, occasionally one of their tributes will get a seven or an eight, but Mari cant remember any of them surviving too far after the initial bloodbath. An eleven is entirely unprecedented.

"It'll be an interesting one", Finnick hums.

"Sure will", Haymitch takes a swig of his flask.

The elevator stops down on the prep floor, and the three of them disembark. Haymitch heads down the one end of the hallway and Mari and Finnick go the other. They enter through a door marked 'DISTRICT FOUR', to their tributes sitting in chairs looking anxious and miserable. Coral is wearing a blue puff of fabric, scattered with glittering seashells — no doubt an attempt by Evey to make her look sweet and cute. Dylan is wearing something almost identical to Finnick and Mari just wants to roll her eyes. Evey wont say it, but she's a little bit obsessed with Finnick and it shows in her work.

"In about an hour you'll be in interviews with Caesar Flickerman", Mari says as she takes a seat, careful that her shoulder strap doesn't fall, "Dylan keep your answers charming and non-threatening, we've not been able to secure an alliance with the Careers yet so it's best that you stay out of their way."

"How long is the interview?", Dylan asks.

"About fifteen minutes", Finnick says.

"Should I talk about my strengths?", Dylan asks, "Let the Careers know I could be an asset?"

"Absolutely not", Mari says almost angrily, she has no idea what he's thinking, "You do not want a target on your back, and that is exactly how you get you one. If they perceive you as a threat you wont make it past the Cornucopia."

Dylan bristles at that and Mari worries that he is too prideful to listen to her advice. It's unfortunate, because he has a fighting chance and as much as she doesn't really like him, she would hate to see him die. She hopes that he will listen to her advice.

" _Uhm_ , what about me?", Coral asks meekly, breaking the tense silence.

"Just answer Caesar's questions honestly", Finnick says, "We have a few sponsors already interested in you, so it's best that you just be yourself. It's okay to tell him how you're feeling, just don't take any risks with it."

Coral nods slowly, "I'll do my best."

The next forty minutes are spent going over strategies and answering various questions about the Games. Coral is still remarkably quiet, and Mari can't tell if its because she's scared or if she's hiding her strengths. Dylan, still annoyed at Mari's scolding from earlier, directs all his questions at Finnick and barely responds when Mari speaks. She tries not to let it bother her. It's a horrible thought, but he will likely be dead within a week. And in a few years he will be just another person that she sent off to die.

Before long, Coral and Dylan are being escorted off to the interview hall by Evey, and Burch is guiding Mari and Finnick to the location of the party. Mari tries not to think too hard about how the Games start tomorrow, which means ignoring Burch as he walks them through hallways and up sets of stairs to the party.

"I do hope poor Coral doesn't suffer", Burch bemoans, "She's such a gorgeous little thing."

Mari wonders how they all live with themselves. How they send little fourteen-year-old girls like Coral to their deaths and are okay with it. It doesn't make sense that people like Burch seem saddened at the death of an innocent child but do absolutely nothing to stop it.

She must be looking tense because Finnick gently places a hand on her arm. She does her best to release the tension in her shoulders as Burch brings them into the ballroom.

Finnick removes his hand, and she knows she wont see him until later when they have to collect their tributes. He wont stay the night with anyone, not during the Games, but here they are seperate people. He is Finnick Odair and she is Marina Fischer. They are the Capitol's playthings for the night. She can't hang around him like she usually does.

Finnick gives her a hint of a sad smile and then disappears into a crowd of voracious fans.

Burch grabs onto her arm and starts to pull her through the swarms of people, "Come, come. I'll introduce you to the Petrovs'."


	3. now i've sold my soul

**IT REALLY DOESN'T SHOCK HER IN** the least when Dylan starts boasting to Caesar about how he's going to win the Games this year. It makes her angry, _yes_ , but it hardly surprises her. Not with the way he’d been acting this whole time, like nothing she said made any sense, like she deserved no respect. (And she knows better than to get angry at him really, this isn’t his fault. It’s the Capitol’s fault. President Snow’s fault. As it always is).

She's standing a little way away from Burch in this crowd of Capitol sponsors. Burch isn't paying any attention to her, he's huddled in a group and they’re all turned toward the massive screens at the front of the room - - chatting and laughing and drinking alcohol from little glass flutes. While Dylan sits on stage with Caesar Flickerman and paints a big red target on his chest. It makes her sick as she realises how little this matters to the people in this room, how little they understand the gravity of this situation. This is the start of a chain of events that will lead to Dylan’s death. She knows she has to find Finnick.

Mari discards her half empty glass on an unoccupied table. She can’t keep the worried look off her face as she pushes her way through the crowds. Johanna Mason, who is dressed vaguely like a bush, gives her an almost sympathetic look as she passes on the arm of her Capitol escort. Mari spots Finnick talking to Effie Trinket by a table of food, and she thanks god that he's not lost somewhere in a group of his doting fans. She ducks past a few groups of people, doing her best to cheerily wave off any invitations to join them, and being careful that her far too long hair doesn't get caught on anything.

Mari plasters on a fake smile, "I do hope I'm not interrupting", she turns to Effie, "Could I steal Finnick away for a bit. Tribute stuff."

Effie smiles pleasantly, "Oh of course Mari!”

Mari beams, and grabs Finnick by the arm before Effie can keep speaking. She tries to rush them from the ballroom as quickly as possible, hoping no one catches them. With the way that she's herding him out of there, any one of Finnick's many admirers could see them and be instantly and horribly jealous (which would have grave consequences). Mari breathes a sigh of relief once they're out into the hallway, heading back toward the training centre.

"I know", Finnick says once they're a comfortable distance away, "I _know_."

He slows them down a little, forcing Mari to walk at a normal pace, forcing her to breathe. She grabs bundles of her hair and twists it up into something haphazard, anything to get it off her neck - - this is the whole reason why she cut her hair in the first place. Finnick can see the signs of panic building on her, she's walking way too fast, and her sentences are coming out jumbled and nonsensical.

"Mari", Finnick jogs after her, " _Mari_. Slow down."

She just gives him a look and pulls him all the way down the hallway. She doesn't appear to calm down, even once they're safely inside and headed up to their floor.

"He's going to get himself _killed_ ", she hisses in the relative privacy of the elevator.

Finnick sighs, "I know”, he says, “It's bad."

" _Finnick_ –", she says, and his name wells up in her throat.

He can tell she's grappling with the reality of two more of their tributes dead. It gets to her, and that's not to say it doesn't get to him - - but she has a much harder time with it than he does for whatever reason. If they die in that arena, Mari will take the full weight of that on. She will integrate that tragedy into her conscience, and she will live with it for the rest of her life. As much as she tries to act like it's out of her hands, as much as she tries to act like she knows how to deal with it, she doesn’t. Finnick knows how much it really weighs on her.

"Mari", he wants to hug her, tell her it'll all be okay, and she doesn't need to feel it like this - - but he can't, because those doors could open at any time, and he cannot be sure that it'll be okay, "Calm down, _please_."

"They're going to _die,_ Finnick", she looks on the verge of sobbing, "They're going to die, and it'll be _my_ fault."

He reaches out and his hands grip tight to her shoulders, "Mari. _Please_ ", he pleads, " _Please_. It's not your fault. There's nothing we can do anymore. We've done everything that we can."

She shakes her head adamantly. And _fuck_ , Finnick wants to put his hands around Snow's neck and squeeze. He hates seeing her like this. She's got this look on her face like she's lost, and it makes Finnick feel like his heart is breaking into a million pieces. He wishes he could help in a way that is meaningful.

The elevator lets them out onto the fourth floor. Mari steps out, a hand tangled in hair extensions she can’t take out. Finnick wants to hold her so badly, but he can’t - - it’s dangerous in the Capitol. Even while alone it would be foolish to touch her for too long, lest someone see. Still he wants to, he wants to grab hold of her, and he doesn’t want to let go.

But he can’t.

He can’t.

**MARI WAKES EARLY THE NEXT MORNING**.

Partly because she knows she must, and partly because she hardly slept in the first place. She pulls on something plain and ties up half of her too long hair. She feels like she’s moving through a fog as she pads into the living space. Dylan is sitting on the couch and his left leg is jutting up and down, up and down up and down up and down. She can see the nervousness on every inch of his body.

It just makes her sad.

He barely looks up at her when she sits down across from him.

“Dylan”, she sighs.

He stays silent, eyes cast downward. Mari suspects he might finally be realising what he’s up against.

“You’re a target now”, Mari says frankly, “You need to be prepared to kill.”

He looks annoyed in the way his jaw is set, “I know that. I _am_ prepared.”

There’s this thinly veiled rage in Dylan and she knows he could win this. But there’s too much pride in him. If he was a career tribute, if he had trained his whole life for this exact thing, then he might be able to do it - - even with the pride. But the matter of the fact is that he is not as skilled as they’d all like to believe. Dylan will die like the rest of them.

“Are you?”, she asks.

And she hopes it makes him think. She _hopes_ he wins. She really _really_ does. Even if for selfish reasons, even if she just does not want the weight of his death on her shoulders. She hates that that’s why.

Burch walks in before Dylan can say something grating in response.

“Marina”, Burch claps his hands together, too chipper for this time in the morning, too chipper for what’s about to happen, “Be a dear and go fetch Finnick for me.”

Mari nods, grateful for an excuse to leave Dylan. She walks back down the hall to Finnick’s room. She knocks, but it’s more habit than anything. She doesn’t really need to knock with Finnick. Not anymore. He murmurs something when she comes in - - he’s sprawled out on the king size bed, covered in sheets and surrounded by pillows. She shuts the door behind her, leaning against it.

“Burch wants you up”, she crosses her arms over her chest.

Finnick hums, barely awake.

She resolves to go over and shake him.

“Finn”, she sits down on the bed next to him, nudging his face with her hand, “C’mon. Gotta get up.”

He rolls over to face Mari, his hair is pressed down onto his forehead and there’s crust around one of his eyes. This is the only time he does not appear flawless. Before he gets out of bed and has to fix up every little thing that makes him look human. Mari is lucky she gets to see him like this.

“I don’t want to”, he mumbles, eyes shut.

“I know”, she says, her heart coiling in her chest as she reaches a hand out as if to stroke his head, “I know.”

He sighs heavily, and all of a sudden reality is crashing down on her. She pulls her hand back and remembers where they are.

“Come on, Finn”, she yanks the top of the covers off him, “It’s Games day.”

“Shit”, he breathes.

She watches it dawn on him as he wakes up and gets ready - - watches the situation settle onto his face. He will plaster on that smile of his when he walks out of this room and he will be Golden Boy Finnick Odair, but she will see the fact of it settle behind his eyes. As it has done each year before this, and as it will each year after.

“I talked to Dylan”, Mari says as Finnick ducks into the bathroom to groom himself.

“Why? What did you say?”

Mari shrugs though he can’t see her, “Because I can’t let it go I suppose. He doesn’t respect me, but I want him to listen to what I have to say. I clearly can’t do anything for Coral, but I feel like I can still do something for Dylan.”

“What did you say?”, Finnick repeats.

“I told him he needs to be prepared to kill.”

“What did _he_ say?”

“He told me he is.”

“Do you think he is?”

Mari pauses, “No. And I don’t think he knows that.”

Finnick drops something in the bathroom, his voice comes back muffled as he bends down to grab it, “He’s prideful. And I think you need to let it go.”

Mari drops her head into her hands, “I don’t know if I can.”

“It’s Games day”, Finnick says as he comes back out into the room, “You’ve not got much choice.”

Her heart plummets deep into her stomach, but she doesn’t feel much more than that. There’s not a thing she can do after all. The numbness is beginning to creep in. (- - and she’s heard of this particular brand of apathy from older mentors. But she’s not sure what’s worse, taking responsibility for every death you’ve caused or not caring about any?).

“Come on”, Finnick offers his hand.

She takes it and they enter the common area together. Burch tells them that Evey has already ushered their tributes downstairs to get ready. Mari feels hollow all at once as she realises her job is done. Coral had requested she go in alone, and Dylan had requested Finnick be there to give him a few last pieces of advice - - she can do nothing further for the two. (Besides begging sponsors for gifts of course, but she is not sure how much that will help either of them). Mari can do nothing now but pace the room as Finnick and Burch leave to farewell the tributes.

The TV turns itself on at the front of the room not twenty minutes after the two leave and starts broadcasting Caesar Flickerman’s Hunger Games introduction ceremony. Mari puts a hand in her hair and paces over to the couch to have a seat. The screen won’t turn off anyway, so she may as well. She can imagine Burch right now - - he’s probably pacing back and forth, worrying that he’s going to miss something important. Which he _won’t_ , because he carries around a portable screen everywhere he goes this time of year just for the express purpose of not missing a _second_ of these Games. She can’t imagine how that must be.

Mari feels like she might be sick.

She wants to go to her room and muffle her ears with pillows. She wants to sleep and not wake up until this is over. But there is a TV in her room too, and she cannot turn it off either - - as well, she cannot leave her tributes to die. She has to watch, and she has to do everything she can to make sure they stay alive. As much as she wants to hide from this problem, she cannot.

She starts to feel dizzy when Caesar says the Games are about to start. All she can think about is Finnick trapped down there, about Dylan and Coral being offered up as sacrifices. The countdown begins, and she spirals into flashbacks of the winding hallways, the rows of Peacekeepers at the ready, getting crammed into a glass tube by guards unable to do more than yell frantic promises to Finnick, and the realisation dawning on her that she is going to die up there. She watches as the tributes are raised into the arena, revealing a dense forest. Dylan and Coral are placed on pedestals next to each other, Mari hopes this is a good thing. Then the beep of the countdown starts ring, and Mari feels it deep in her bones, _10_ … _9_ … _8_ …, her heart beats more frantic with every second, _7_ … she has to remind herself that it is not her on that platform, _6_ … she is safe, _5_ … _4_ …, Finnick is safe, and as much as she would like to save every tribute that comes into her care she cannot, she must focus on what is important to her, _2_ …, still panic wells up in her throat and she feels like she is almost at her breaking point - - and _1_...

The canon sounds.

Mari realises incredibly quickly that Dylan has not listened to a single instruction that she or Finnick gave him. Mari fears the worst. He immediately takes off running toward the Cornucopia, grabbing the first weapon he gets his hands on, a machete, and some string of fate he is able to take off sprinting into the woods unimpeded by the death around him. He runs in the same direction that Coral had gone. He is incredibly lucky, and Mari only worries that this is fuelling his pride.

Several canons sound one after the other, but Mari can pay no attention to the already dead. The TV cuts to camera vision of Coral bounding through the woods - - she is more quick and agile than Mari had expected. Perhaps she has more fight in her than they all suspected. The camera cuts again and she can see Dylan gaining on Coral. Mari worries for a second that something terrible will happen, but Dylan sticks his arms in the air to signal the younger girl and Coral slows. Mari takes this as a good sign.

Coral waits for Dylan to catch up to her, and they keep running deeper and deeper into the woods together.

“I saw rocks”, Coral pants, as they run, “There has to be a cave or something.”

Dylan nods, “Good idea.”

Mari wonders where this has come from. Whether this was pre-planned, and she wonders why they didn’t tell her and Finnick if it was. A bad feeling settles itself low in her gut, she tries to shake it off (but she has learnt to trust her gut).

The screen splits into four so she can see the Cornucopia bloodbath as she watches Coral and Dylan run. The other two screens show Katniss Everdeen, and the Career tributes. Mari suspects Evey selected these preferences, she has taken quite a liking to Katniss Everdeen in the past few days.

The sound of Finnick and Burch coming back in startles her. Finnick gives her a terse smile and sits down near her. Mari doesn’t realise her fists are clenched until Burch comments on it. She loosens her limbs, trying to ease some of the tension. But she knows she will have sleepless nights until this is all over.

Her eyes turn back to the screen.

Coral and Dylan are settling behind some rocks to catch their breath. The machete Dylan grabbed at the Cornucopia is just off to the side, Mari feels both worried and sated by this realisation. Sated because at least it means he is not planning on killing Coral like she though he might, but worried because a tribute could come out of nowhere and they would be unarmed. The feeling the pit of her stomach is beginning to fade. She glances over at Finnick, they share a look of silent understanding. The closest to calm they will get these days.

Suddenly Burch is shrieking, his arm extended out, pointing, “ _Oh my god_!”

Mari snaps her head to the screen, looking between screens until she sees what Burch is pointing at. She settles on the image of Coral with a knife settled deep in the spot where Dylan’s heart is. The feeling that was in the pit of her stomach rises into the very top of her throat. She feels an urgency that wills her to stand up - - but she stays seated. Dylan slumps downward.

Burch is babbling something intelligible.

Something has darkened on Coral’s face. Mari really did not expect this. There’s always one who tries this tactic every year. She really didn’t expect it to be quiet and unassuming Coral. (Which of course is the point - - too fool everyone. But Mari has always hoped she’d never be a part of that ‘everyone’). Mari’s gut wrenches when Coral twists the knife in Dylan’s chest.

Dylan, caught off guard by the pain, can barely fight back. His limbs flail, but he can do nothing but collapse onto the hard rock ground when Coral yanks the knife out and steps out of the path of his descent.

His head bounces on the rock.

Coral bends down and picks up the machete. Mari can hear her heartbeat in her ears as Coral takes off running.

The camera stays on Dylan, blood pooling around his mouth, under his chest. His eyes glazed over, he blinks slowly. Clinging on to life. Mari doesn’t look away as he gasps for breath through the blood, she doesn’t look away until the canon goes off and the camera cuts to Coral scaling a tree, the bloody knife that she used to kill Dylan in hand and machete strapped to her side.

Later, Mari is huddled in her duvet, leaning against Finnick who has propped himself up with at least five pillows. They’re watching Katniss Everdeen make her bed high up in a tree. Mari bundles her hair up out of the way.

“Do we have to help her”, Mari asks Finnick.

All she can think about is the look in Coral’s eyes. Or rather the lack of anything in her eyes. Mari has seen death, Mari has killed. What scares her most about that look is wondering if someone else saw it in her eyes.

Finnick sighs, “You know we do.”


	4. is it different than before?

**MARI IS SQUEEZED INTO A** tight-fitting slip dress covered in glittering artificial diamonds that glint every colour under the lights. It splits down the sides and train makes it difficult to walk without tripping - - especially considering the teetering heels that Evey has forced her into. She is grateful that she and Finnick must move as a pair tonight, even if just so she has something to hang on to.

The party is already too rowdy, and they’ve only been there half an hour. Blinding multicoloured lights swinging every which way, Avox slinking around with their faces painted white (she tries her best not to notice them, but it is _so_ hard, they’re right there and all she can think about are the place where their tongues used to be), Capitol citizens dressed even more ludicrously than they usually are, and more uneaten food discarded than she has ever seen in her own pantry.

Mari hates this.

She really does.

It’s her hair most of all. It’s too _long_. It gets caught in the embroidery of her dress if she isn’t looking out for it. She wishes she could just cut it all off, but for now she eagerly awaits the day Evey unsews the extensions.

Mari sighs, leaning for a second on Finnick’s arm so she can adjust the strap of her heel, “Who’s next?”, she asks.

“Petrov’s”, Finnick says.

“Again?”

He nods.

Mari is _sick_ of the Petrov’s. She’s met with them several times this year – they seem to meet with them every year. Mari suspects it has something to do with Finnick as it always does. But to be perfectly honest, Ms. Petrov doesn’t seem incredibly interested. Regardless, Mari is sick of them prattling on and on and on. She’s sick of everyone prattling on and on, but the Petrov’s most of all.

“Wonderful”, Mari says dryly, and then they are on their way.

They reach the Petrov’s at a crowded table that is very quickly cleared out as they arrive. They’re both monstrosities in lilac. Ms. Petrov is adorned in some puffy chiffon material that swamps her, and Mr. Petrov is a plain suit all the same colour.

“ _Darlings_ ”, Ms. Petrov shrieks, leaning up to give Mari a kiss on each cheek.

Mr. Petrov gives a firm handshake to Finnick and says something jovial that grates at Mari’s nerves. She and Finnick sit down across from the pair.

“So nice to see you again”, Ms. Petrov says, her voice high-pitched in a squeaky kind of way, “What would you dears like to talk about tonight?”

Mari smiles pleasantly when Ms. Petrov looks her way, “How are you enjoying the Games so far?”

“ _Oh_!”, Ms. Petrov shrieks in excitement, “Immensely.”

Mari hates that she has to be pleasant with these people. If not for Finnick and years of conditioning the scowl hiding just under the surface of her plastered-on smile would have broken out long ago. And _fuck_ , Mari wants to give these people a piece of her mind. She wants to show them what she can do, what they _made_ her do. She wants to bare her teeth and rip them apart. But she can’t. She _can’t_.

Ms. Petrov continues, “Oh, it was a _shame_ that Dylan had to die. But that Coral! We knew we’d picked a good one didn’t we darling”, she nudges Mr. Petrov who nods vigorously in agreement.

“Oh yes, yes”, Mr. Petrov says, “We’d love to send her a little something.”

“That would be amazing”, Finnick says, reaching out to shake Mr. Petrov’s now outstretched hand, “We’ll send Burch over to coordinate.”

Mari gathers her dress.

“Sorry to cut this short”, Finnick says, sounding regrettable, pushing his chair back to stand up, “But we should really be going now.”

Mari follows suit, being careful not to trip on her dress as she slides her chair back, “Thank you so much”, she says.

“No worries dearies”, Ms. Petrov laughs, waving them off, “Plenty of matters to attend to. I’m sure we will be seeing you again soon!”

Mari nods, reminding herself of the pleasant smile, she leans forward to embrace Ms. Petrov and gets a whiff of her overwhelming perfume, some artificial lavender smell. Mari hold her breath, trying not to cough at least until she and Finnick have disappeared back into the crowds. They find Burch and let him know to pay the Petrov’s a visit.

Mari breathes hard out through her nose once they’re in the relative privacy of some canopy in the back of the garden, “ _Fuck_.”

Finnick hums.

Mari brushes a piece of hair off her neck and looks up at Finnick. He’s got this faraway look on his face that makes Mari want to cry just a little bit. She wishes they weren’t here - - but she wishes that every second she spends in the Capitol.

Finnick looks sad in this beautiful way and she hates to romanticise his beauty the same way everyone else does, but _god_ she can’t help it. He really is. For a terrible moment she _gets it_ , she understands why these Capitol women throw themselves in front of him, why people will hand over secrets they have guarded their whole lives just to know him. Not that they ever will know him of course.

Mari gets that at least. She gets to know him. _Really_ know him in a way that is meaningful.

There’s that.

He blinks once, twice. Then he looks down at her and he’s back (she sees it in his smile).

“We should find Clem”, Mari says, looking away.

Finnick offers his arm for her and they set out in search of District One’s Capitol escort, Clem. Clem is relatively agreeable and is bound to be much more approachable than whoever District One’s mentors are this year. They hope to secure a spot for Coral in the career pack this year - - they’d already failed with Dylan, but now that Coral has proved herself a worthy opponent they hope they won’t fail again.

They find Clem by a pillar, chatting with another Capitol escort.

Finnick interrupts politely and the other Capitol escort giggles but leaves them be.

“Oh, hello”, Clem giggles slightly, leaning back onto the pillar, “What can I do for you two?”

And all of a sudden, it’s like Finnick turns up his charm from about three to like eleven. Mari is used to it and even _she’s_ a bit flustered, she can’t imagine how Clem feels. He’s speaking in this low tone that she recognises from whenever one of his doting fans is around, and _honestly_ Mari kind of wants to leave him and Clem be - - she always feels just a little bit uncomfortable when he does this. Like it’s not for her to hear.

“We heard you let that District Twelve boy into your Career pack”, Finnick leans in, “I know our deal with Dylan fell through, but I’m wondering what you can do about Coral. Because, _really_ , District Four belongs in the pack. Much more than that Peeta at least.”

Clem, who’s clearly fighting some instinct to just agree with whatever Finnick says, raises her not-really-there eyebrows, “Neither of you were in our Career pack. Look at you now. I don’t think Coral is going to work out.”

“Shame”, Finnick shrugs, and if Mari didn’t know better she’d believe him, “To think we were prepared to share one of our sponsors with you.”

Clem sighs slightly, “Wait.”

“Hmm.”

“Give me a day”, Clem says, sounding resigned, “I need to warm the others up to the idea.”

“Get it done.”

Clem gives him this look and then she’s gone.

Finnick still has this infuriating smirk on his face when he turns to her, though its less flirty and charming but more amused.

“Jesus”, Mari mutters, “That was charged.”

Finnick snorts a little, “Sorta the point sweetheart.”

Mari whacks at his arm, “Don’t call me that, idiot.”

He just laughs. And it’s nice to pretend like everything can be normal for just a moment. Regardless of where they are, regardless of what they’ve just done, regardless of what they’re going to do.

Mari finds a fleeting sense of relief.

**IT’S THE NEXT DAY WHEN** Coral is granted permission to join the Career pack. Burch runs in when they’re blurry-eyed eating a late breakfast and shrieks it, then he runs out as soon as he came in to arrange the Petrov’s gifts for Coral and her newfound allies.

Mari glances at the screens in the living room and feels this pang of regret when as she watches Coral camouflage herself in a bed of leaves. It’s difficult to reconcile this girl she’s watching and the girl who had sat on these exact couches not days ago acting like she was going to die the moment she stepped off the platform.

It’s difficult to force herself to help Coral when she’d seen the way she’d disregarded Dylan so easily after gaining his trust. Though, Mari supposes it is not so different from killing another tribute, and Mari has done that as well.

What scares her the most is the reality that Coral is not so different from Mari when it comes down to it.

“Hey”, Finnick says.

Mari looks to him, pulling her eyes off the screen, “Huh.”

“You’ve gotta stop thinking about it”, He says, stabbing at a melon on his plate absently, “She’s just like the rest of us. We’ve got to help her the best we can.”

She nods, looking down at the table, “Yeah, I know.”

He’s right, of course he’s right.

She takes another bite of her melon and tries to push it out of her mind.

After that they spend a good chunk of the day in the pool. Swimming until their fingers prune. It’s nice to forget for a moment, to not pay attention to the screens broadcasting every death in the living room. They get out reluctantly when Burch comes in to tell them the Petrov’s gift for Coral is scheduled to arrive soon.

Mari scrubs the chlorine off her skin and out of her hair in the shower again, and then not long after she finds herself wrapped up in blankets, pressed against Finnick’s arm on the couch. Underwhelmingly, the gift is a bundle of small knives that Coral distributes between her new allies, keeping two for herself, tucked into pockets. (Mari seizes as she realises she would have done the same).

Burch forces them to stay up a little longer after that, though there seems no point now. Coral is safe with the Career pack, and many of the other tributes seem on the brink of dehydration, sleeping high up in trees and hidden away behind rocks.

Eventually, when Finnick falls asleep on the couch, Burch gives up and goes to his room. Mari rouses Finnick (-- who, funnily enough, was faking it to get Burch to leave) and shoves him into her bedroom to sleep. Sleep is difficult for both of them, Mari only does this to make it easier. Even then, she only falls asleep hours later, pressed up against Finnick’s chest, listening to him breathe.

The next day starts similarly, they rise late, eat whatever is offered to them for breakfast and are forced to watch tributes die slowly of dehydration on the big screen TV’s in their living room. Evey visits to force Mari into some monstrosity - - Mari begs her to take out the hair extensions and Evey refuses. The only thing of note in the Games that morning is when Katniss Everdeen is forced out of her safe spot high in her tree by a raging wildfire. Her leg is burnt, and she finds a safe spot by a stream to wait it out as she heals.

Somewhere later in the day Mari and Finnick decide to take a walk through the training centre grounds, eager to get away from Burch and the confines of their floor for even just a short amount of time. They make their way to the complex’s private gardens and set off through the maze of hedges. Still, they can’t escape the Games - - there’s a large holographic screen, projected onto a towering wall, broadcasting the tributes every move. Mari knows better than to sigh, there’s no escaping the games while they’re still going.

The fresh air is nice - - nowhere near as nice as the smell of the ocean in the distance would be but she is not home so it will have to do for now.

Finnick forces her to sit down with him once she has solved the hedge maze with her eyes closed for the fifth time. (Just to know she can still do it. Just to know that running through cave systems in the dark for days on end during her Games wasn’t for nothing).

“Please”, he pleads, a laugh to his voice, “Take a break.”

She complies, crossing her legs up under her on the stone bench. She leans back and can just see the tops of the screens broadcasting the games over a hedge. There’s a flurry of activity on the screen, the tops of heads breaking out into a sprint. Mari desperately wants to ignore it, but she really shouldn’t.

So, she shifts her legs underneath her and stands up, so she can see over the hedge.

It’s the Career pack. Coral with them.

“What’s happening?”, Finnick asks.

They’re gaining on an injured Katniss Everdeen. She limps as quickly as she can, almost dragging her injured leg as she tries to outrun them. She will not outrun them.

The Career pack, all six of them, dodge trees and jump over fallen branches and rocks, hooting and hollering as they grow ever closer. Coral, the fastest of them all, is only a few metres from Katniss. Panic finds its way up Mari’s neck and into the spot just behind her tongue. Finnick stands up from the bench to watch when he notices Mari can hardly speak let alone tell him what’s going on.

And then Coral is on her, just there, just behind. She’s reaching and running. Grabbing frantically at the hood on Katniss’ windbreaker. But she can’t reach. Katniss, even with an injured leg, is faster.

Coral trips, hitting the ground hard.

And then before Mari can blink Katniss is halfway up a tree.

“Fuck!”, one of the Career tributes yells as they catch up to Coral.

Another of the tributes, a girl with long blonde hair, tries to climb the tree after Katniss. To no avail, she can’t find a foothold like Katniss had been able to do so easily. She tumbles to the ground barely a quarter of the way up.

Katniss watches them, high out of their reach.

Coral hauls herself up, wiping her face of blood and dirt.

“We’ll make camp here”, Coral says tersely, “she can’t stay up there forever. She has to come down at some point.”

The other tributes agree, and they settle around the bottom of the tree.

Mari climbs off the bench. Silent.

“Let’s head back”, Finnick says.

Mari nods. There isn’t much to say. (Well - - there is a lot to say, but Mari can say none of it here). They make their way back to the training centre and up to the fourth floor.

Mari doesn’t sleep that night.

She sits next to a sleeping Finnick for hours and hours and watches Katniss in that tree. She watches as the Careers take turns to keep watch. She watches that boy, Peeta, and wonders if he has fooled everyone too, if he plans to kill Katniss like Coral had killed Dylan.

She’s half asleep, barely comprehending the TV when Finnick wakes. He pushes gently on her shoulder.

“Mari”, he gathers the blankets, “Look.”

Mari blinks herself out of the fog and drags herself up to look.

She expects to see Katniss dead, but instead she watches her high in her tree dragging a knife back and forth across a branch. She follows the branch to its end and sees a tracker jacker nest bobbing up and down as the branch bends under its weight.

Awake now, Mari sits up further.

The camera pans to the tributes below, they’re all asleep. The District One girl is propped up against the tree, a bow and arrow in her hands. Mari assumes she was the one meant to be taking watch.

There’s a loud crack and the tracker jacker nest plummets from the sky. It lands right at the feet of the District One girl, shattering into pieces. The tracker jackers swarm out. The noise is loud enough the wake the tributes. The District One boy, the District Two tributes, and Peeta scramble quickly out of harm’s way - - screaming as they disappear into the trees. The District One girl and Coral are the closest to the swarm of tracker jackers and thus are finding it harder to escape.

The District One girl, the clear target of the tracker jackers, already has welts rising on her skin where she’s been stung. It’s difficult to see her through the swarm. She flails and screams, trying to get away. Coral manages to get up and run, though a small swarm of the genetically modified insects have broken off to follow her. She too is screaming and swatting at the bugs as she flees.

Coral stumbles toward the river bank, unsteady on her feet from the pain. She collapses just short of the river, sprawled out in mud. The swarm hangs around her, stinging at bare flesh. Welts begin to form, and her skin starts turning a rancid looking shade of green. Her eyes are glazing over.

She twitches as a tracker jacker lands a sting somewhere just above her eye. Her face lands forward in the mud, too weak to lift her body she starts to drown. Her body convulses violently as she takes in too much liquid mud, and too little air.

Mari isn’t sure how to feel when that canon goes off.

There’s guilt and sorrow and relief. She lets herself feel none of it.

The camera cuts to the District One girl, she’s breathing shallow as Katniss pries the bow and arrows from her stiff fingers. Finnick turns the TV off.

Mari is left staring blankly at the black screen in front of her.

“It’s over. You can go home now”, Finnick says.

There’s that at least.

She can go home.


	5. he feels like part of you

**NOW THAT CORAL IS DEAD THERE** is no reason for Mari to stay in the Capitol for any longer. The Games are over as far as Mari is concerned. Her job is done.

She spends her last day having Evey and her hoard of assistants take out her hair extensions. They giggle and gossip around her, turning their attention to the TV screen every time something vaguely interesting happens during the broadcast. Mari stares at her feet and tries not to pay attention to the Games.

Finnick is in and out the whole day - - now that his tributes are dead he has other matters to attend to. As demanded by President Snow. Mari counts herself lucky that she does not suffer the same fate - - she has that mercy from Snow at least.

Most of all she just feels guilty. She keeps that from Finnick.

He has to stay here after she leaves for home. At least until the end of the Games, perhaps longer. They can never be sure. He _will_ come home though, she is sure of that. Snow always lets him eventually.

That afternoon, when Mari’s hair is at her shoulders again, Finnick comes back to say goodbye at the train station. They hug for too long in the privacy of the departure lounge. Mari does not care if someone sees.

“Come home”, Mari pleads, her arms clasped around his torso, “ _Please_.”

“I promise”, he whispers into her neck, “I always will.”

They pull away, and Mari laughs with tears in her eyes. It comes out more sad than happy, but of course she is not happy. She wipes at her cheek and her hand comes back wet. It’s difficult not to cry. It’s difficult to leave without Finnick - - but it would likely be more difficult to stay.

Mari takes Finnick’s hand, holding it gently in between hers. It says everything she cannot verbalise. There is so much she wants to say to him, and so little that she can actually bring herself to. Sometimes, she isn’t even sure what she feels for him.

“Be safe”, he says, “I’ll miss you.

“I’ll miss you too”, Mari says, letting his hand drop between them.

She smiles sadly and steps onto the train. The peacekeeper further into the train presses a button and the train door slides closed in front of her. Mari makes her way past the peacekeeper and into the lounge compartment. She moves through the room to the window, where she waves to Finnick. He waves back. She watches him stand at the platform until they turn around a bend and she can’t see him anymore.

Mari makes her way to the sleeper cars.

She claims the bedroom she usually uses and changes into something more comfortable, throwing the clothes she was wearing into the laundry chute. She has no need of them now, especially not when she’ll be back in District Four by tomorrow.

She sits down on the bed and forgets herself as she turns the TV on. She gets a moment of tributes swinging knives and spurting blood. She fumbles for the remote and turns the screen off. For a long moment she sits there with her hand over her mouth, muffling sobs and trying to keep the tears at bay. She has not properly cried in a long time and this train is not the place for it. It takes ten minutes at the very least, but she finally collects herself.

She will not do this here.

She feels empty without Finnick at her side. It is always particularly difficult without him for the first few days he is gone. The fact that her wellbeing seems to be hinged on his physical presence in her life is difficult to face sometimes. They go through so much of this together that it is hard to know what to do without him.

What is most difficult is knowing that he is in the Capitol right now without her. At least while she is there with him, while their tributes are still alive, he is not obligated to spend the night with any of his cloying fans. But now that the Games are over for their tributes there is nothing to stop them from taking up his every spare moment.

It is hard to put into words how terrible she feels for him. He braves it the best he can, and after years of doing Snow’s bidding he is better at compartmentalising it. But she knows it hurts him and she knows how much he hates doing it.

Sometimes (as selfish as it is) she is filled with incredible guilt that he has to do this, and she doesn’t. They all have something that keeps them in line and this is Finnick’s. That’s the truth of it really, this is what keeps Finnick obedient. Mari thinks she would go insane from the inside out if this happened to her, and obviously Snow thinks it’s better to keep her lucid, to keep her sane, so she remembers everything he does to her and everything he makes her do.

Mari used to think that if she was reaped and if she made it through, it would be all okay on the other side. _Sure_ , some of the victors seemed a little unhinged and Finnick didn’t talk to her after he won his Games, but they seemed okay for the most part. They had nice homes and more money than they knew what to do with. It didn’t seem ideal, but it seemed better than her life before the Games.

Eighteen, nearly, nineteen, living with a deadbeat brother who blamed her for their father’s death; her best and only friend having abandoned her for a life of Capitol luxuries years prior; providing for two people on a one-person wage (see: dead parents and deadbeat brother); and just plain _sad_. And then she’s eighteen nearly nineteen and her name is called for the 69th Hunger Games, and even if briefly, she considers it a relief. Anything to pull her away from the monotony that her life had become.

But then it isn’t a relief anymore. Her brother comes to say goodbye, and he cries, and he says he’s sorry and it hurts that is has taken _this_ for him to apologise, but despite herself she says she will try to come home for him. And then all of a sudden, she’s face-to-face with Finnick after three years of nothing. He gives her this look and she falls apart inside because she realises that he’s just been trying to protect her this _whole time_. And she had _hated_ him for it.

They get to the Capitol and she’s whisked off to the Remake centre and that is only the beginning of her feeling like she is being torn down and put back together again. She has been remade but there are pieces missing. And then she wins like she promised _,_ and the same thing happens. They take who she used to be piece by piece until there are only fragments of an incomplete puzzle left - - lost in places she will never find. They take her scars too, every little mark she earnt in that arena, from little scrapes from rocks, to the long slice down her side from District One. They took her apart and put her back the way _they_ wanted.

By some miracle, she comes out the other side and she realises that she is so far from okay. She has been remade in every sense of the word. There are not enough words to describe how distinctly _not_ okay she is. How she would have traded anything in the world, including this big house and all the money she has, to go back three weeks and beg that someone volunteer in her place. Sure, she has Bailey and Finnick back, but at what cost.

She wants to be whole again.

But she never will be.

Mari falls asleep in the early hours of the morning to the sound of rain falling against the train. She wakes up only a few hours later, drenched in sweat from nightmares. Dragging herself from bed she looks out the window to see District Four’s coastline. The train starts to slow only a few minutes later, and she knows they’re close to the station. Relief washes over her when the train slows to a stop. She brushes the knots out of her hair, puts on a different top, and near runs off the train when she hears the doors open.

Annie Cresta is there to greet her when she steps out. Her long brown hair is slightly dishevelled looking and there’s a faraway look in her eyes as usual. Mari is so glad to see her. She rushes forward into Annie’s open arms, hugging tight.

“ _Annie!_ ”

Annie laughs, “Oh, Mari. I’ve missed you.”

“You too, Annie”, Mari says, squeezing tighter.

Annie gently pulls Mari off her, “How about we go home?”

Mari is so happy she grins, “Please.”

**SHE AND ANNIE FIND THEIR WAY** to the beach after Mari makes a stop at her house to put on a bathing suit. They lay out on the grass that reaches into the sand with the sun hot above them. Mari breathes in the salt air.

Mari feels like she can finally breathe again since she left for the Capitol the other week. Even though looking at the sand down below reminds her of her week in an arena killing kids. Even though Finnick is back in the Capitol doing god knows what. Even though Annie is next to her and can’t go into the water because she will start to cry and might not stop.

At least she is home.

Annie stretches next to her, gazing out onto the ocean, there’s something behind her eyes as there always is. Mari barely knew her before her Games, but it is not hard to tell there is something different. It’s all about the way they take you apart and put you back, they tore Annie apart and she hasn’t been put back together. Not the way she was before at least.

“Mags can’t wait to have you and Finnick over”, Annie says, looking away from the ocean and rolling over to face Mari, “She misses you terribly when you’re gone. We both do.”

“I can’t wait”, Mari smiles gently, “When Finnick is back it’ll be like normal.”

Or as normal as it can be in their situation at least.

Mags, Annie and Finnick are like family to her. _Yes_ , she has her older brother Bailey, but they’re barely a family now that their parents are dead. So her little group of victors has taken that place instead. It’s different, she doesn’t lean on Mags or Annie as much as she leans on Finnick, but they keep each other mostly sane. Besides, Bailey can never understand what she went through in that arena. They can. She needs that.

“How was it this year”, Annie asks, albeit a little nervously.

It’s hard for Annie to think about the Games moreso than any of the rest of them, Mari appreciates her asking.

Mari sighs, folding her legs underneath her, “Hard. . . Coral was. . . _unexpected_.”

Annie nods. Mari doubts Annie has watched much of the Games this year, she tries her best to keep away from it. But she is nothing if not well meaning and kind, she watches the most she can to make sure Mari and Finnick are not burdened alone.

“At least”, Annie fidgets with her own fingers, “she was sure of herself.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Mari leans back onto her elbows with a nod. Annie runs her hands over her face, looking distressed. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, forgetting herself. Mari decides that their conversation about the Games is over then, she doesn’t want to cause Annie to spiral any more than she has already has.

Annie takes a moment to breathe and then she leans back in the midday sun, looking more herself than she has been in a while. Despite her reputation and despite what people think of her, Mari really doesn’t think Annie is all that crazy. That may just be because Mari is a little crazy herself, but so be it if she is. There, stretched out under the sun, Annie looks like something out of a dream. She tilts her head back and lets the wind lift her hair. Mari looks away.

“Do you want to come to markets with me?”, Mari asks after a while, pulling a t-shirt on over her bathing suit.

Annie nods gently, “I’d love to.”

They leave the beach and Mari tries not to step on the hot sand. The market isn’t far, only a fifteen-minute walk through town. Annie links her arm with Mari’s as they go.

The asphalt burns their bare feet. When they’d set out earlier the ground hadn’t been as hot, thus the lack of shoes. Mari pulls Annie along, stepping quickly onto cool grass across the road. A little while later they cut through an alleyway and come out into the bustling markets. The smell of fresh fish and sea water reaches her nose before they’re anywhere near the fish stalls. Mari can’t help the small smile on her face. (She knows she shouldn’t be smiling though. Not here, where people can see).

Mari purchases a kilo of tilapia and a kilo of salmon to freeze and a bagful of mussels from a fish merchant Mari vaguely recognises. Then they buy fresh fruit and vegetables from the other end of the markets, picking up a few other things Mari needs on the way. As a coming home treat, Annie insists on buying Mari a handful of caramelised cashews - - Mari buys another bag for when Finnick comes back. Mari loads everything into a handwoven carry bag and they set off for the Victors Village.

Annie hugs her goodbye at the junction between their homes and makes her promise to visit within the next few days. Mari promises.

She shoves her way through the door into her house, flicking lights on as she makes her way into the kitchen. Coming home is always strange at first - - she has to adjust to the smell, the feel, everything. But at least it all feels real. She sets the carry bag down on the kitchen bench and starts to put things away into the pantry and the freezer box. She eats a few of the cashews but puts the rest in a jar for later.

She changes out of her bathing suit and spends the rest of the afternoon cleaning up dust and preparing the mussels for cooking. Once they’re ready she puts them in a pot with garlic, onion and tomato broth. She lets them steam while she gathers blankets on the couch.

Once they’re ready to eat she settles on the couch and pulls the mussels open one by one, drinking the broth using empty shells once she’s done with the meat.

She’s glad for the time alone. It feels good to make a meal from scratch again too. Something so distinctly District Four, something so distinctly hers. It helps that she’s a half decent cook - - it helps that she’s making something instead of unmaking it.

She starts to cry then.

She’s finally home, finally safe - - she can finally let herself.

It’s something about the way homemade mussels’ taste, being surrounded in blankets, and a room that smells like home and salt water. It’s such a _relief_. Finally, _finally_ she can breathe. She can breathe deep and right to the bottom of her lungs, in and out, in and out. And the breathing turns into these heaving sobs for a moment until it’s just tears, thick and hot running down her cheeks.

It’s so sudden that she feels a little unhinged, just a touch of insanity. But she has been holding this all in for days and days after all, it’s only natural that it would all burst at some point. She’s glad it’s now.

In all honesty she isn’t sure what she’s crying for. Herself? Finnick? Dylan? The tragedy that is her life? Whatever it is, she’s glad to let it out. She cries, and she cries until she can’t anymore. Until it feels like her tear ducts have dried up from overuse.

She feels just a little bit empty when she’s done. But at least the weight is gone from her shoulders. She doesn’t feel better, but she feels lighter. Which the best she can hope for these days.

The phone rings in the other room.

She wipes her cheeks (not that it helps), and trudges into the kitchen. She pulls the phone off the wall and hops up onto the stool.

“Hello?”

“Mari?”

“Finnick”, she breathes, voice gluggy from the crying.

“Mari”, he sounds tired, “You’re home?”

“I am”, she leans her head against the wall and pretends he’s right there with her.

“Good”, he pauses, and she hears him breathing, in and out, in and out, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too”, her voice breaks, and she feels those hot tears on her face again.

“Are you crying?”

She hiccups, “ _Yes_. . . Are you?’

“Nearly.”

Their conversation is bordering on unsafe. She knows someone has to be listening to them, she can’t dream that Snow would leave their phone calls unmonitored.

“Come home”, she says.

“I will”, he says, “I promise.”

She nods even though he can’t see her.

He sniffs.

She can almost see him, hair mussed, bags under his eyes, pressed up against the phone in his room.

“Say hi to Annie and Mags for me.”

“I will.”

She feels like there is more to say, but she can say none of it.

They both know they can’t talk for long. The phone clicks as he hangs up. Mari puts the phone back on the wall and keeps her head where it has leant. She lets the last few tears she has in her slide down her face until they’re all gone.

It’s only been a day at the most, but it feels like she hasn’t seen him in months. She misses him immensely, so much that it aches. She wishes he were here already.

She pulls her head off the wall, wipes her eyes and starts to clean up after her dinner.

She trudges up to bed after that, she opens the window and pulls in a deep breath of salt air, then she settles in unmade covers from the last time she was here and tries to sleep knowing Finnick is somewhere else doing the same thing.


	6. do you feel held by him?

**HER BREATH IS SHALLOW AS SHE** untangles the cotton sheets from her body and swings her legs over the side of her bed. Her hair sticks to the sweat on her back as she makes her way upon shaky legs towards the kitchen. Mari moves sleepily through the room, turning the kettle on to boil and pulling a tea bag and tea cup from her various cupboards. She swipes knotted and damp hair from her forehead and leans up against the counter, waiting.

The whine of the kettle creeps up on her, low and barely noticeable at first until it turns into an invasive whistle. It pierces through her head, forming a pressure point that starts to pound a constant rhythm into her skull.

She clenches her fists.

It’s moments like these that she feels the most like the woman who had been born in that arena. The repetitive pounding in her head disorients her. It throws her back six years and she’s back in that vast, endless desert. Her hands shake and her heart pounds, she reaches for her weapon. Then, when she grasps at nothing but her sleep shorts and looks down at her clean hands, she realises she’s safe.

She sighs deep through her nose and leans heavy against the countertop.

Her hands shake as she holds the kettle, the scalding water sloshes back and forth as she tips it as carefully as possible into the mug. Some of it splashes out onto the countertop, barely missing her hand splayed out on the wood.

She wouldn’t really mind if it had burnt her.

She dunks the tea bag into the hot water and leaves it out to cool.

Mari sits down on the couch, covered in blankets from the other night, her bowl from dinner still sitting on the coffee table. She’s been back in District Four for two weeks now and she’s still spiralling from her visit to the Capitol. Which is not so much out of the ordinary, as it is frustrating. She has terrible nightmares every night, and it feels like she’s constantly moving through a fog. And of course, it has something to do with the fact that Finnick isn’t home. And then the fact that the Games are still going.

Even though Mari can’t bring herself to watch.

She turns it on every now and then, partly out of pure boredom and partly out of morbid curiosity. It is always a mistake. She watches for however long she can stomach and then has to turn it off when she starts hyperventilating. Which is usually very soon.

This year is no different from any other, she sees no reason to increase the likelihood of an imminent breakdown just to watch enough to understand what’s going on.

She’s already has seen enough to know that Katniss Everdeen and that boy Peeta are still alive. It is strange in itself that District 12 still have one of their tributes, never mind two.

The Games are nearing their end no doubt.

She’s been staring at the TV remote, and it taunts her, threatens her. It tells her to turn the screen on and to _watch_ , frozen in horror at what is to be the last day of the Games. And she doesn’t have to, she gets that from Snow, there is no one here in District Four forcing her to watch the Games, but she feels as if she must. Because that Katniss girl is going to win, Mari is sure of it. And she needs to watch it happen.

Suddenly, the living room feels all too small. Mari stands up.

Her head is clouded by fear and this absurd compulsion she feels to turn on the TV. She has no idea where it is coming from, she has _won_ , she gets this little bit of freedom. It is what she gets for suffering, the shitty consolation that she isn’t forced to watch children kill other children on live television like everyone else has to.

It is the guilt perhaps.

Like she owes it to whoever dies.

She has killed, and now she must suffer.

Mari does not touch the remote. She rushes up to her bedroom to change and then out her front door into the Victors Village, forgetting the cup of tea that grows cold on her counter.

The early morning air is crisp.

The sky is still grey, waiting for the sun to come up above the horizon.

Mari pushes thoughts of the remote sitting idle on her table and sets off through the Victors Village and down a winding dirt path. The dirt quickly makes way for cold sand, not yet made warm by the sun. It’s white under her bare feet, just different enough from the orange and red of the sand in her Games to be okay. Coming over the dunes, the grey horizon rests against the stretched-out sea. There is no wind and no waves to speak of. A speck far out to sea grows closer, a fishing boat coming back to dock.

She walks down the length of the beach until she reaches the pier. It’s made of weathered white wood and stretches out several meters into the water. The fishes have stopped biting here, so Mari has it to herself this early in the morning.

She sits at the end of the pier, legs hanging over the waves that lap up against the support poles. She leans back onto her hands and watches the sun as it rises. It peeks up over the horizon and then quickly explodes into glorious pinks and yellows and oranges and reds. And then, as fast as it rose, it disappears behind the cloudy sky.

This is one of the many things that she misses when in the Capitol, there are no sunrises or sunsets to speak of. The sun is blocked by towering structures and the mountains it sits in the valley of. Even here, with clouds blocking part of the sun, it lights up the sky in wonderful colours. The only thing colourful about the Capitol are the people, and even then, it’s all fake anyway.

Mari tips her head back in the breeze, her hair unsecured by any tie.

“I thought I’d find you here”, says a shouting voice, accompanied by feet on the pier behind her.

Mari whips her head around, heart racing from the sudden interruption, wanting to see who it is. Her brother approaches. He walks folded in on himself, arms crossed over each other, swamped by a few too many layers. His doe eyes peek through unkempt hair, looking forward at her, something distant in them.

“Bailey”, she says, tone more clipped than she had intended.

When she makes no move to stand, he takes the spot next to her. His gangly legs slide off the edge and his boots just touch the top of the waves when they splash in a certain direction.

“Marina”, he replies, saying it because he knows she doesn’t like it.

She sighs and looks out onto the water. Thinking of days past.

“You didn’t come visit me”, Bailey says after a minute.

Mari glances at him and then looks back to the sea, “You didn’t visit me.”

“I didn’t know you were home”, he says, “Annie Cresta told me.”

There is little anger left in the either of them. Where they used to fight tooth and nail, stoking the fire that burned inside the both of them, there only remains smouldering ashes. They are angry about plenty of other things, but each other no longer.

“I didn’t know _you_ were home”, Mari replies, picking at something on her pants.

Bailey rolls his eyes.

“It’s nice to see you”, Mari reaches over to pat his leg if a little awkwardly.

There is too much distance between them already to be able to mend their relationship. Awkward touches and stilted conversations will have to do. Always in the memory of when they were close, when they felt like proper siblings. Now it just feels like there is a bridge between them that can never be fixed.

“Sure, Mari. You too.”

There is not anything to say. Everything that needs to be said was said years ago after she won her Games and came back a different person. So, they sit, and they look out onto the horizon together.

An hour passes.

The sun rises further in the sky, coming out from behind the clouds. People start to come out onto the beach, fisherman, mothers and their children, runners, couples. Bailey looks behind them, and watches a couple walk by, hand in hand, until they disappear down the sandy path.

“Come over for dinner next week”, Mari says, reaching out to touch his arm, “I’ll make fish pie.”

He looks back at Mari, body still half-turned toward the beach, he nods, “Okay,”

“Friday”, Bailey says.

“Finnick will be home”, Mari tells him.

Bailey sighs, “I like Finnick. You know that. Just not--”

“The others”, Mari sighs, “I understand.”

She doesn’t, not really. She has never understood why he can’t bear to meet the Victors that Mari spends her time with. But she will pretend to for him. He is her brother after all, no matter how far apart they are now.

Bailey stands up, he walks a little way down the pier, “I’ll call.”

Mari nods and twists back to face the sea.

“Are you okay?”, he asks from behind her.

Mari looks back, eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

He sighs, “Never mind.”

Then he walks the rest of the way down the pier, leaving Mari, clueless.

**THE NEXT MORNING ANNIE’S SCREAMS WAKE HER**. She can hear her, even around the corner. It pounds a rhythm in her skull that makes her want to scream too. She feels hollowed out as she dresses quickly and rushes over to make sure Annie is okay.

When she gets there, Annie is on the floor of her living room. She has her hands clasped over her ears and her eyes shut tight. The screen in front of them plays a recap of the last hours of the 74th Games. Mari turns it off before she sees what happens and helps Annie off the floor. It must’ve happened last night as she slept - - Mari hasn’t turned her TV on in at least three days, she can only assume.

“It’s over Annie”, she soothes, rubbing at her back on the couch, “It’s done.”

Annie hiccups, “N-no.”

“You’re safe”, Mari pulls her into a hug.

Annie rests her forehead on Mari’s shoulder and cries into it.

Mags arrives soon after she’s got Annie off the floor. Once Annie isn’t in hysterics, Mags has her sit on the couch, so she can braid her long hair, while Mari starts on fish chowder for breakfast (albeit an odd choice, but Annie doesn’t have much in her cupboards). Despite the circumstances, it’s nice. She’s not nearly spent enough time with Annie and Mags, so she is glad for an opportunity.

Once Annie is coherent again they sit down around the table and eat in companionable silence. Not that any of them are particularly in a state to chat, besides Mags doesn’t talk much anymore and Annie wont if she can avoid it. Mari is often grateful for it, she does enough talking in the Capitol to last a lifetime.

Later, somewhere around midday, Mari discovers that by some stroke of fate both Katniss and Peeta have been crowned Victors this year. She has a breakdown of her own watching the replay, all the while trying to grapple with the implication of _two_ Victors this year. Mari isn’t sure what it means, for her, for the Victors, for Katniss and Peeta. She pushes it out of her head to deal with later, when she has a better handle on her own mind. Perhaps when Finnick is home. She hopes that will be some time soon, but she has no way of knowing - - they have called each other far too many times already.

After a late lunch she sets out for the beach again. Her skin itches from mild sunburn as she pulls on her bathing suit.

It’s mostly empty of people, it’s too late and the beach is too far from town for people to visit now. The sun is starting to set on the horizon.

She runs through warm sand and into the cold ocean before she can think too hard about it. Before she can realise just how many times she has been here since she got back two weeks ago, every day at _least_ , if not several times each day. It is more home than the house she has won with the blood of children.

She dives into the ocean without pretence. The waves are choppier than they were yesterday, the wind has picked up and the waves crest higher than usual. She swims out as far as she can go without being caught by the tide, strong from years of practice.

A wave larger than the rest starts to form in front of her, she chases it forward. It starts to curl inwards and becomes decidedly treacherous to stay in. She pulls back the best she can and ducks under the wave.

She comes up on the other side of it seconds later, shallower than she was before, pushing strands of wet hair from her face. There is someone coming down the grassy path toward the beach, they step onto the sand. Broad shouldered, tall, dressed differently than anyone she sees around District Four.

 _Finnick_.

Mari stands up, the water coming to her waist. It is easier to see him now. He has a hand up over his eyes, shielding them from the setting sun, looking out at her. He’s wearing a dressy shirt and pants, and it’s clear he’s just got off the train to come here. Even from out in the ocean she can see how tired he is, the bags under his eyes are noticeable, his hair is all out of place.

He gives her a short wave, a smile spreading slowly on his face as he recognises her.

The same smile grows on Mari’s face, she splashes forward through the water, breaking out into the best sprint she can manage on the hot sand. She barely pays any mind to the heat.

“Mari”, he says all in one breath.

She hurtles into him before he can say anything further, wrapping her arms around him and accidentally knocking them to the ground.

He laughs, pressed up against the sand.

“Sorry”, Mari says, grinning.

She hangs over him, wet hands buried in the sand on either side of his head. Her knees on the left of him. Her hair drips water onto his clothes.

She’s not really sorry.

Finnick hauls himself up, grabbing her once he’s sitting. She tumbles into his lap, getting salt water and wet sand all over him and his clothes. He hardly seems to care.

Finally, he’s home. She feels as if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. It’s relief that she feels most of all, he’s home and he’s safe. She can finally breathe again. She always forgets how difficult it is to not have him by her side. Especially here, they belong here more than anywhere else in Panem.

They don’t have to pretend anymore either. Mari doesn’t have to live in fear of a security camera catching them or some loyalist Capitol escort finding them in a hallway. Like hugging each other is a crime punishable by death (well, it may as well be when it comes to Finnick Odair).

He eventually lets her go, leaning back into the sand a little, with this _look_ in his eyes. She feels confused by it. He’s just _looking_. Eyes soft around the corners, dewy with affection.

“What”, Mari climbs off his lap, settling in the sand just next to him.

He shakes his head gently, with a light chuckle, “Nothing,”

Mari raises an eyebrow in protest - - it’s something, for sure, she just can’t be sure of what that something is if he won’t tell her.

“I can’t believe you’re home”, Mari says after a moment, “The Games _just_ finished.”

“No, they didn’t”, Finnick looks confused this time, “They finished three days ago.”

Mari blinks, “Are you serious?”

Finnick nods.

She takes a silent moment to grapple with that. The last few days have been such a blur of grief and sadness that she has lost herself somewhere in it. Annie must have seen a rerun, and Mari was obviously too lost in her whirlwind of emotion to realise that the recap she watched earlier was from days ago. It certainly says something about Capitol television if anything, reusing and replaying the same footage over and over. Forcing it down the throats of Panem’s citizens until they throw it back up.

Mari sighs, looking back up to Finnick, “It’s been a difficult two weeks. I’m glad you’re home.”

He smiles this halfway sad, halfway happy smile, “I’m glad too.”

He clambers up, brushing sand off his clothes as best he can. He reaches a hand out for her and helps her up when she takes it. She hugs him again once they’re standing.

Arms wrapped around his waist, face pressed into his chest. He hugs her back just as tight. It feels like home. They stay like that for a while, longer than they would anywhere else. There’s no one here to interrupt them, to stop them, or to force them apart with somewhere to be. They have each other again.

For the first time in a while Mari feels whole.


	7. i try but its way too late

**MARI LIKES TO COOK.** She wouldn’t say that she is particularly any good at it, but she hopes her enthusiasm makes up for it. Besides, she doesn’t mind not being good at it - - it’s not like it’s her Victor talent or anything. It’s for _her_ , something to help her cling to the little sanity she has left. Something to remind her that her hands can still _make_ and not just tear apart

The night after Finnick gets back the two of them stand in the kitchen and make fish stew. Finnick uses a filleting knife to remove the bones from a whole Halibut they’d bought at the markets. Annie and Mags play cards at the table while Mari chops vegetables and dices garlic. Finnick shoves in next to her to push celery and onion around the pan before helping her add the chopped vegetables. The pan sizzles with the heat and oil, spitting onto the counter and Mari’s hand that holds the wooden spoon. Finnick adds a glug of clam juice and half a cup of white wine to dull the sizzling.

Mari wipes the hot oil off her hand without a second thought.

She almost feels normal when she cooks. Or at least, being here, cooking with Finnick, reminds her of an idea she used to have about her perfect life. It’s not really about the food, or the place - - she’s always had a comfortable home and more than enough food to eat. It’s more about the experience of cooking with others.

The only time she remembers cooking with family was when her mother was still alive all those years ago. Then it was just her father coming home late and exhausted from long surgeries and making his sleepy children cheese on bread, or her brother just old enough to operate a stove and heating up old soup, or her alone, making some unnecessarily elaborate meal for herself to enjoy and leaving the leftovers out for whenever Bailey would decide to collect them.

Now, when the occasion calls for it, she and Finnick and Annie and Mags gather in the kitchen and make food _together_. She likes the fact that they all bump into each other and shove and manoeuvre and shuffle, because _sure_ it’s a little annoying to navigate your way through a sea of people just to put a dirty knife in the sink but at least they are all there.

She’s pressed up against Finnick’s side, shoving against him to grab the wooden spoon. He pushes back playfully but helps drop the fish into the collection of vegetables and liquid that is starting to look more and more stew like. Mari breaks it up into pieces, pushing the mixture around as it slowly thickens.

“This is nice”, Finnick comments, leaning against the corner of the counter.

Mari hums, looking back at Annie and Mags, still engrossed in their card game, “It is. Feels good to forget.”

Finnick nods, his face twisted slightly, “Don’t forget though--”

Mari sighs, turning back to the stew, “Tomorrow. I remember.”

She places a lid on top of the pan and sets the wooden spoon on the counter.

They have family visits tomorrow. Of course, she remembers. She can’t imagine how she could ever forget. But now is not the time to dwell on it.

“Sorry”, Finnick scratches his forehead.

Mari waves him off, “It’s ok.”

He gives her this apologetic look as he moves to sit at the table with Annie and Mags.

Mari switches on the music player next to a drooping fern in the corner of the room, it stutters for a moment and then starts playing one of the slow scratchy records she’d inherited from her Mother long ago. She stands there for a moment, head threatening to tilt back, listening to the heady sound of the song she’s listened to hundreds of times over. She breathes for a moment, grateful that she still can.

Then she moves to the stretching wooden table in the middle of the room, taking a seat next to Annie. The stack of cards sits abandoned next to Mags folded hands. Mari sets her arms on the table and Annie winds her left hand into Mari’s right. Mari smiles.

“Smells like home”, Mags mumbles, her voice clearer than it’s been in a while.

And it really does. It reminds Mari of being thirteen and going to the markets with Finnick on the weekend. Walking up from their houses on sandy cobblestones, through back alleys and empty fields. The smell of the sea in the air. They use their pocket money to buy bowls of fish stew from the merchant, and they scoop it up with wooden spoons while sitting on sandy grass.

“It’s about done, I reckon”, Finnick says.

He pushes back from the table and goes to the kitchen to ladle the stew into bowls. Annie helps him carry them over, and they all sit down together to eat. Once all their bowls are empty and the sun has set Annie gives them squeezing hugs and leaves to help Mags home.

“Thank you”, Annie says at the door, “Good luck tomorrow.”

Annie gives them both another hug. And Mags, clutched onto Annie’s arm for support, gives them a frail wave and a gummy smile. Annie helps Mags down the stairs and Mari shuts the door behind them.

“Mags is getting old”, Finnick sighs, eyebrows soft around the edges.

Mari nods with a sigh of her own, “I know.”

Finnick follows her into the kitchen to clean up. Lilting music continues to drone in the background as they stand next to each other, passing dishes back and forth. And when they’re done with that Finnick doesn’t leave like he’s supposed to.

Mari turns off the lights and the music and they go up to her room. She changes into sleep clothes in the bathroom and when she comes back Finnick is sprawled out under her white sheets, his shirt and shorts discarded on the floor next to him. His face is pressed into the pillow under his head, Mari rolls her eyes and climbs in next to him.

He lifts his face to look at her, “C’mere.”

He rolls onto his side, lifting one of his arms so she can move between them. Mari shuffles over under the duvet to settle there, moving to rest her head against her pillow. He shifts so their legs are tangled together, and the hand he has draped over her grabs at her own. She takes it.

“Try to sleep”, he says, “We have to get up early tomorrow.”

Mari nods, and wonders how on Earth she is supposed to sleep when her heart is beating this fast.

**THEY MEET WITH CORAL’S FAMILY FIRST.**

Her mother cries when they come into the in the Justice Building. Mari feels the panic clawing at her throat. It’s just the mother, a woman called Dara. They sit down in the chairs that are set out for them as Dara cries and cries.

Mari can see Coral on the woman, even as she’s hunched over, tears streaming down her face. The button nose, the height, the blue eyes, the shape of her chin. She looks remarkably like the girl she watched kill Dylan in cold blood. But there’s no darkness behind the eyes, nothing like the sinister look that Coral wore.

Dara reminds Mari of the girl they all thought Coral was. She has the innocence, the weakness. She’s the girl Mari thought would die in the bloodbath.

In front of them, Dara breathes a shaky breath.

“Sorry”, she says, but its hollow, rid of any real meaning.

“You have nothing to apologise for”, Finnick says, with a cursory glance to the side.

Two peacekeepers stand on the other side of that door and the walls are thin.

Mari breathes in, leaning forward in chair, her words mean next to nothing, but she must say them, “We cannot begin to express how sorry we are- -”

“ _Sorry?_ You’re _sorry_.”

Mari leans back and reminds herself that this woman is more than entitled to this anger. It’s not as if its misdirected either, she and Finnick are just as responsible as anyone else. Mari would be angry too - - has been angry. They must let her have this, it is the least that they can do.

“She’s _dead_ \- -”

Her voice cracks.

“We did everything we could”, Finnick says, voice calm.

“I-”, Mari watches the anger drain from Dara there, she runs a hand over her face and looks directly at Mari, exhausted, “Did you know?” Did you know she would do what she did?”

Mari can see the sorrow and the sleepless nights all over Dara’s face. Her heart aches. She _wishes_ she could have done more to save Coral, no matter how much the girl concerned her. If it were possible, she would do anything in power to bring this woman’s daughter back to her.

“I didn’t”, Mari breathes.

Dara nods wearily.

She is tired of being angry, tired of being sad, tired of being tired.

“ _Please_ ”, Mari pleads, “If you need anything at all. Find me, and I will help you.”

“Thank you”, Dara says.

But Mari knows it is all empty promises to this woman. She thinks she understands that more than anyone else, even more than Finnick.

Dara leaves without another word.

Dylan’s family comes in not long after that, two parents and a younger brother. They stand at the door, barely inside. The man holds his wife in his arms, a ten-year-old boy that looks just like Dylan by his side. None of them try to hide their anger.

“We just wanted to see you”, the father spits.

Finnick stands up, bracing himself as the tension escalates. Mari stays in her seat, her eyes fixed on the boy’s shaking fist. Mari finally understands where Dylan’s anger came from, she can see it all over this family.

“We’re so-”, Finnick starts.

“We don’t want your apology”, the mother scowls, “You killed my boy. You let that _girl_ kill him. I will _never_ forgive you for that.”

Mari feels the mother staring at her. She looks up from the boy and faces her tear-filled eyes, red at the edges and filled with rage.

“If you need anything. I will help you”, Mari says, despite herself.

Maybe this woman is right, maybe she _did_ kill Dylan. Mari wishes there were a way to make up for that, but there is not, so she will at least offer the help she can give.

“We don’t want anything from you”, the father says.

The boy says something that Mari can’t hear because her heart is pounding loud in her ears and then the family leaves. Her blood runs cold in her body, all she can think about is the anger in that woman’s eyes and the way Dara looked so empty.

They wait several minutes, as to not accidentally run into Dylan’s family or Coral’s mother on their way out. A peacekeeper enters and escorts them out the back entrance to the Justice Building.

Mari barely talks on the way back. She just fiddles with the uncomfortable clothing she’d put on and tries not to let her rapid breathing get the best of her.

They walk in through the gates to the Victors Village and down the winding path until they reach the houses. All lined up facing each other, then a bend and a pathway leading to another set of houses facing each other. Finnick lives in the last house on the left and Mari in the second on the right, Annie and Mags live around the bend.

Finnick follows Mari inside the house.

Mari sits on the couch and tries to get a hold of the feeling rising in her throat.

This is always the worst part. They have not had a victor since four years ago when Annie won. And even then.

Mari _hates_ it. Having to go sit in a room and offer up empty apologies to people who could not care any less. They cry, and they yell, and Mari can do nothing. Because in the end, they are right. They are right. Mari has killed their children and nothing she can say, nothing she can offer will bring those children back.

And even the ones who do not blame her, tell her that she has done everything she can to save their children are just offering the same empty promises to themselves.

Mari is a murderer in more ways than one.

She will never make peace with that.

The couch dips as Finnick sits next to her.

“It’s not your fault”, he says, hand on her back.

The blood pounds in her ears.

“Don’t lie to me”, she says, almost angry, pushing his hand off her back.

He looks almost hurt, “I’m not.”

She wants to tell him that he wouldn’t know. He is Finnick Odair - - Capitol Golden Boy - - he _feeds_ people lies. Mari finds it hard to believe that he would stop lying just for her. No matter their shared experience, no matter their bond. She finds it hard to believe that he even _realises_ that he’s lying to her, he is likely lying to himself. The blood of these children is on their hands, as much as they are on anyone else’s.

She says none of that because she can’t bear to see the look on his face if she did.

Instead she says nothing.

“Mari”, he says, voice heavy.

She frowns.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No”, she grabs his hand, “Please.”

He stays.

He stays, and eventually Mari feels like she can talk without emotion welling up in her throat. She talks, and then she cries. He holds her, and she pretends that she can believe his lies about how everything will be okay when everyday feels like a waking nightmare. And then, eventually, she has no tears left.

It’s late by then, the sun is setting behind the empty houses across the street.

Mari uses the last of her energy to shuffle toward Finnick and settle herself in the crook of his neck. She wraps her arms around him, and it seems like she fits there perfectly.

“I’m sorry”, her voice muffled by his shirt, “I know it’s hard for you too.”

He sighs, and it comes out sad, “I’d do anything for you. You know, that right?”

Something wells in her throat again. Of course, she knows that, she would do anything for him. But it’s a shock to hear him say it out loud. The _way_ he says it, filled with longing and helplessness, it implies things that she is not yet willing to accept or admit.

“ _Of course.”,_ she replies in the same way, still pressed up into his neck.

There is so much between them, Mari feels its every time they are together. So much of it unsaid, unspoken. But they both _feel_ it. Mari doesn’t like to think about it much, they are already too close, too wholly entwined. It scares her to think what would happen if Snow thought it an issue. He can’t do anything to Finnick of course, but he can hurt _her_ , and Annie, and Mags. There are just some lines that they cannot cross.

The balmy afternoon air filters in through the window as they pull apart. Mari wipes at her eyes and stands up to busy herself with whatever she can think of. She settles on making food when her stomach rumbles. Finnick comes into the kitchen to help her.

They stand in the kitchen together, cutting vegetables on the bench top, and Mari reminds herself that she was not made only to kill. Though, when she holds the knife that she’s using the slice the top off of green beans, she can’t help but think of what she could do if she let herself.

And that’s the problem there.

Anyone, _really_ , could do what she’s done. What the Games do, what _winning_ the Games does, is prove to you that you _will_ kill if faced with the choice between life and death. They make you face that over and over and over. Make you kill for your own life, and for glory that you don’t even want. And then it’s over, and you must confront the reality that you are more than capable of killing.

They don’t have to do much to turn you into a weapon, just convince you that you’d rather live than not do it for them. That’s the worst part of all.


	8. out across the endless sea

**FINNICK FINDS THEM OUT IN THE BACK GARDEN**. Mags is draped over a wicker rocking chair nestled in overgrown grass, her grey hair glinting in the hot sun. Mari is in the other corner bent over a patch of budding sunflowers, her hands buried wrist deep in the dirt. Carnations and daisies sprout around her, nestled in between patches of green grass and gardening equipment.

“Good morning”, Finnick announces, following it with a sip from his glass of water.

Mari turns and tilts her head up at him, squinting in the sun. Her hair tumbles out of the makeshift bun it was in, blonde hair dropping around her shoulders.

“Morning sleepy”, she replies, brushing her hands on her pants and standing up.

Finnick rolls his eyes, “It’s only eleven.”

Mari chuckles, pulling her gardening gloves off and tossing a hand through her hair. It’s getting too long, it stops too far off her shoulders and the ends are dry and damaged. Since her games ended she’s never been able to go long without cutting it.

“Your point?”, Mari raises an eyebrow.

Finnick shakes his head. He places his empty glass down in the grass by the wicker chair and helps Mags out of the chair. She’s okay on her own once he’s helped her. She gives him a thankful pat on his arm and mumbles something that none of them understand. She shuffles inside.

Finnick has always been closer to Mags than Mari has, which is not to say that Mari isn’t close with Mags. It’s just _different_. Mags is like a grandmother to him and the first person who understood him after he won. She was his family when Finnick wasn’t allowed his own. Mari _loves_ Mags, she really does. But Mari never needed Mags in the same way Finnick did. Mari hasn’t needed a family in a long time.

“Do you want to go out on the boat today?”, Finnick asks, a hand over his eyes to shield from the summer sun.

Mari shrugs, “If it’s after lunch, sure.”

Once Mags has left for Annie’s house, Mari and Finnick walk the whole way to the East Docks and down to the very last pier. Right at the end of it sits Finnick’s late father’s fishing boat, white paint comes off the hull in flakes, revealing brown wood underneath. Finnick steadies the boat against the dock as Mari climbs in. He starts the motor up with his key, the engine stutters for a moment before it turns into a steady purr on his second try. He weaves the medium sized boat through the other anchored boats and as far out to sea as they can.

Or at least as far out as the waves and the fences will allow. Not that they can go as far as to see the fences - - only peacekeeper boats are allowed that far.

Finnick switches off the motor. Mari helps him haul the anchor over the side of the boat, the chain clinks rapidly as it plummets to the sea bed. Finnick gives it a few good tugs to check that it’s secure, once satisfied he locks the anchor chain to stop them from drifting too far.

Mari unbuttons the top three buttons on her oversized shirt, lays a towel down and settles in the corner of the boat. Across from her, Finnick is tying a fish hook onto an old fishing rod. Mari takes a deep breath of salt air and lays her head back onto the edge of the boat, shutting her eyes beneath her sunglasses.

“The interviews are today”, Finnick says later, tugging again on the chain of the anchor as he gets up to cast his fishing line.

Mari lifts her sunglasses, “I thought they’d already had them? A bit late isn’t it?”

“It’s only been a week”, Finnick shrugs, he puts one of his hands on the edge of the boat and dips the other into the ocean, “Apparently Katniss has been sedated for a few days.”

Mari lets the sunglasses fall back over her eyes, she shifts forward, into a cross-legged position, “That’s interesting. And Peeta?”

“Not sure. But we should watch the interviews”, he says, “We have to keep an eye on them. Especially for the next Games, Katniss will be a mentor and maybe Peeta too.”

Mari hums, “I suppose we should.”

There’s some truth in it. As much as Mari hates to dig up old wounds, hates to re-watch the Games, hates to keep playing into the little fantasy that the Capitol forces them into, there is certainly some benefit in analysing former Victors. Now with _two_ in one year, and with someone as volatile as Katniss Everdeen, she can’t deny that Finnick is right.

Anyway, it’s easier now. Now that the family visits are over, now that the Games are won. The interviews don’t dig up as much pain as watching everything for the first time again does. She can analyse replays of the Games and read far too much into everything that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark say in every single interview they conduct - - she can do that for the children who come next. They deserve that.

Finnick spends an hour or so fishing, but when he doesn’t catch anything they swim out to the nearby sandbar and race each other on the sand. And once they’re tired of that they swim in circles around the boat until the sun threatens to set in the sky

“We should get back for the interviews”, Finnick says, one arm on the side of the boat, bobbing up and down in the water.

Mari agrees, and they climb back into the boat. Mari pulls on her shirt and helps Finnick pull the anchor back up. He steers the boat back in to dock at the pier and they tie it up so its secure. On the way back to the Victor’s Village they stop by the markets and buy beer battered fish and chips for dinner.

They both change into dry clothes and settle on the couch to watch the interviews.

Caesar Flickerman heralds a lengthy introduction before Katniss and Peeta are finally shown in the same hall that all the pre-games interviews are conducted. Katniss looks stiff and there’s a distance behind her eyes that Mari recognises. Katniss is wearing a puffy yellow dress covered with ribbons that dwarfs her and makes her look like a little girl. Peeta is wearing a casual suit and clutches onto her hand, he pulls their hands out in front of them, putting it on display for the Capitol to see.

“That colour is _awful_ ”, Mari bemoans around a mouthful of chips, “I suppose that’s the point though.”

Finnick snorts, pushing a piece of his flattened hair off his forehead, “Snow must be livid. She looks like a child.”

Caesar jumps straight into, asking them question upon question about how _in love_ they are and the Games and everything else. It’s painfully clear to Mari that Peeta is the better actor of the two, he answers Caesar with ease. Laughing at all the right moments, saying all the right things. Mari imagines he could almost be another Finnick if he didn’t look so sweet, and if he won without using Katniss as a crutch.

Katniss is a different story. Everything about her is stilted and stiff. Her dress and her makeup and her hair make her look like a girl, but everything else about her gives it away. Mari, faced with years of training, can pick it all apart. She sits wrong, her back just too straight. Her eyes are empty behind the not quite loving smiles she puts on. There’s no affection in the way she gazes at Peeta. Mari can see the fire that burns in her, its right there, right behind her eyes.

For a moment Mari wonders what this means. If this will have consequences.

Mari fears it will.

“She’s not selling it”, Finnick says, with a glance toward Mari.

“No”, Mari agrees, “It’s all wrong. She looks like she’s being held hostage.”

Finnick shrugs, “Well. In a way she is. Regardless.”

“I think Snow’s gonna do something”, Mari bites her lip, watching as Katniss spins in circles, looking more nauseous than giddy with excitement like she should be.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know”, Mari shrugs, “But he won’t let this slide.”

By the end of the interview, when President Snow is officially crowing the pair as Victors, it is painfully obvious that Snow absolutely will not let this slide. He gives Katniss this venomous look that turns the blood in Mari’s veins to ice. Katniss, crown settled nicely in her hair, turns around and looks like someone at the end of a gun. And _honestly_ , she may as well be.

Mari switches the screen off.

Finnick looks worried, “Can I use your phone?”

Mari raises an eyebrow, “Sure.”

Finnick spends the next half hour huddled in the corner of her kitchen, phone pressed to his ear. Mari sits on the couch and tries not to listen too hard, she knows she’ll probably regret it if she does. She assumes he’s talking to his various Capitol contacts, requesting _secrets_. He does this sometimes, though not often at her house. He gets on the phone and starts asking around, always after something decidedly interesting or concerning happens. She’s always glad for it in the end, Mari likes to be prepared.

He hangs up the phone for the final time and, exasperated, runs a hand through his still damp hair. It’s lost all its normal shine and bounce, it lays flat against his forehead in slight waves. He looks weary but beautiful in the dim light cast by the living room lights. Older too. Not by much - - but the truth has always aged him.

“Hmm”, Mari asks by way of questioning him.

Finnick blinks at the wall for a moment and then comes over to sit back on the couch.

“It’s not good”, he says.

She cocks her head.

“There’s rumour of rebellion in the Districts”, he picks at a thread on the couch, Mari wants to swat his hand away, but she doesn’t, “After the Rue girl died something happened in Ten, and it’s been spreading. Snow is holding Katniss responsible. He wants her to reverse what she’s done. And, going from what we saw there, she can’t.”

“Do you think he’ll kill her?”, Mari asks.

“Hard to say”, Finnick worries at his bottom lip, “He won’t want to martyr her.”

Mari shakes her head, she fingers the strands of hair that come too far past her collarbone, “There’s been rebellion before. Maybe everyone will forget.”

“Maybe”, Finnick says.

But they both know it’s different this time. Nothing tangible, it just _feels_ different. There’s something in the air that Mari hadn’t even noticed until now. She’s felt it, in the people when she walks around the market, on the beach, on the docks. Like they’re bracing for something they don’t even realise is coming.

People aren’t going to forget what Katniss Everdeen has done.

**THE NEXT MORNING THERE’S A CHILL TO** the summer air caused by the thick grey storm clouds Mari can see approaching from out to sea. Above them, sun is blocked out by a thinner blanket of light grey clouds and the ground is muddy with overnight rain. Mari and Finnick make their way through back alleys to the markets.

There’s something in the air when they arrive, a hard to understand tension in the faces of the marketgoers and merchants. Mari doesn’t realise what it is until they’re a few stalls in, several peaches nestled in her wicker basket.

 _More peacekeepers_.

It’s an usual sight. Though Mari doesn’t feel terribly threatened by peacekeepers usually, they’re not as malicious in District Four as they are in other Districts. Besides, she’s a Victor and it’s not often they suspect her of causing trouble. Regardless, she’s not exactly comforted when she sees a peacekeeper at nearly every junction, large stun guns braced out in front of them.

On a normal day, she would spot maybe three or four peacekeepers while roaming the markets. But even out on the streets it’s not incredibly common - - District Four isn’t known for causing trouble. She supposes that Katniss Everdeen is more of a threat to the Capitol and its rule than they all anticipated.

Mari feels more watched than usual.

She and Finnick stand further apart than they normally would.

Near the end of their trip they stop at a stall on the very outskirts of the markets, owned by an older woman that Mari’s father used to know. Mari can’t quite remember her name, though she sees her here often. The woman smiles, looking more cheerful than any of the other merchants had. She offers them some of her fresh scallops. Mari exchanges a handful of coins for a bag of the scallops and something else that the woman slips into her hand.

Mari goes to examine it, confused.

“Not here”, the woman says, hand over Mari’s, “Not in public.”

Mari discreetly slips the rock-like trinket into her pocket and gives the woman an odd look. The woman only leans back into her stall and puts on that cheerful smile again.

“Have a nice day now”, she says, “Hurry home. It might rain.”

“You too”, Mari says wearily.

They leave quickly after that. It starts to sprinkle with rain as they pass by the train station. A group of fresh peacekeepers are gathered on the platform, disembarking the train. Mari feels the familiar feeling of panic rising in her throat and Finnick hurries them away as calmly as possible.

“Why are there so many of them”, Mari says, Finnick’s hand still on the small of her back as they walk briskly through the streets and away from the train station.

“I don’t know”, Finnick replies, worry clouding his tone, “I don’t know.”

The trinket is heavy in her pocket the whole walk home. But once they’re back Mari tries to ignore its weight; their priority is to put the fish and lean meats in the cooler before they spoil. When that is done, and the fruit and vegetables are safely in her pantry, she tugs Finnick over to look at it.

She pulls the item from her pocket and examines it under the light.

It’s a smooth mostly circular pebble, a dark grey, it looks like it’s come from one of the beaches on the far reaches of District Four. Where pebbles line the shore instead of sand. Painted, fairly crudely, in a shade of black barely darker than the pebble, is a mockingjay. An arrow pinched between its beak and its wings outstretched. It feels familiar, but Mari is not sure where from.

She offers it to Finnick. He takes it and tilts it until the picture is clear under the light.

“Katniss”, he says.

“What?”

“The pin. Her token”, he passes the pebble back, “It looked just like this.”

It feels heavy in her hands as she realises what this means, what this _is_.

A marker of rebellion.

Mari takes the pebble outside and smashes it with a hammer until it is in chunks, barely recognisable and unable to be put back together. She throws the pieces of rock across her garden and hopes they will be picked up and scattered by birds.

The rain, heavy now, soaks into Mari’s clothes and hair. Finnick watches her from the doorway of her back patio, looking not so much worried or concerned, but anxious.

A rare look on him.

Mari comes back inside, wringing out her hair and unsure of what to say.

“Are you okay?”, Finnick asks.

“I don’t want that in my house”, she says quietly, “We don’t know what it means.”

“I think we do”, he replies.

“And if it is what we think it is then I _definitely_ don’t want it in my house”, Mari snaps.

It worries her, that much is obvious.

Every year, rebellion is at the fringes of people’s thoughts. Threatening to emerge every time another innocent child is killed. It has been there as long as Mari can remember, and there have only been a few times in recent memory that it has felt more present than usual. But now more than ever it feels almost tangible.

Like they can reach it if they try.

Mari dreads what will happen if they do try.

But the penultimate problem here is that if they do, if a rebellion comes to fruition, Mari will fight. She has lived in fear, been controlled by Snow and the Capitol for too long. She will not be able to leave it alone, will not be able to leave people to die fighting against something that she has, at the very _least_ , contributed to.

Mari fears she will not be able to contain the wrath inside of her if the time comes.

“Mari”, Finnick says, resting a hand gently on her shoulder, “Don’t worry yet. It might be nothing. You know how people get after the Games.”

Mari sighs.

He is right of course. This might be nothing.

Just a girl with too much fire in her, waiting to be snuffed out.


	9. we bend it back again

**AS TIME PASSES AFTER THE GAMES IT GETS EASIER FOR MARI**.Not good, never good - - but easier than it is when her trauma is actively being dug up by twenty-four-hour broadcasting of children fighting each other to the death.

And by any stretch of the imagination, easier is better.

Though, of course, in ten short months, the Games will start up again; and she'll have to start this whole process over again. Which, _really_ , is preferable to making Mags or Annie or any of the other Victors go back. Annie would have a terrible time, and Mags honestly isn't in any condition to mentor, never mind communicate, and then the others, they have _families_. Mari couldn't bear to know she tore them away from possibly the only thing that brings them joy anymore.

Which is why, every year since she's won, she and Finnick have mentored.

It's a difficult thing to manage. Going back and reliving it every year. Just as she thinks she's getting better, just as she thinks she's dealing with it, the panic and the anxiety comes back with a vengeance the moment the Victory Tour starts up. And then she starts the process all over again just in time for the Games to remind her that she's not okay all over again.

Snow likes to keep prodding at their wounds, never letting them heal.

Mari likes to keep herself distracted. She gardens, she cooks, she swims, she runs. Some days, like today, she pulls on training gear and runs up and down the beach closest to the Victors Village. Her feet hit soft sand over and over and over until she can barely breathe from the effort. But then she keeps going because over the years she has learnt to push herself further than her limits. It reminds her of ballet class when she was sixteen and Miss Lucy pushing her to go again and _again and again and again_. And not stopping no matter what, because what would she be if she didn't have something to push herself toward. (Just a girl with no family, that's what).

Running on the beach reminds her of her Games. If she lets it at least. The heat and the sand and the taste of blood in her mouth and the clothes that stick to her skin with sweat and the running. She tries not to let it, tries to smell the ocean and pretend that particular part of her life did not happen. Which is, _well_ , easier said than done.

Mari stops when the sky has risen in the sky, she jogs the way home to cool down her muscles and jumps straight into a lukewarm shower. She uses a floral smelling soap to wash the sweat and sand off her body, and two other bottles with a soapy liquid that Evey sends her to scrub her hair free of grime. Once she's done she dries off and stands in front of her bathroom mirror to comb out her hair.

She hasn't cut it since before she left for the Capitol for this year's Games. It comes just a little too far below her collarbones and looks a dirty blonde colour while wet. She's always liked her hair short, at the longest to her collarbones. The fact that Evey sews hair extensions into her hair every time she visits the Capitol doesn't help that.

It all started when Mari's former stylist, a cloying man called Alya, decided that her short hair made her look too boyish. So, he and his prep team sat her down and put in thirty-inch hair extensions. And Mari hated them the moment he sewed them in - - she had to admit that they made her look more feminine, but it didn't feel _right_. She'd never had her hair that long, not even when she had to for ballet. To add to it all, he even had her keep them in during her Games (though at a more manageable length). And the feeling of all that hair on her neck on her back, sticking with sweat, only made her inclination toward short hair all the stronger.

She takes every opportunity to cut her hair above her shoulders when she's home because she knows the moment Evey gets her hands on Mari's hair it'll be back.

Which is the root of the problem. Marina Fischer the Victor of the 69th Hunger Games, is not the same person as Mari Fischer, District Four resident. The Capitol _owns_ Marina Fischer, they have her sew in hair extensions, paint her face with glittering colours, and wear restrictive dresses that make a mockery of District Four culture. They turn her into something that they can fawn over - - and it's not even like she's a _favourite_. The District One boy was supposed to win her Games, they loved _him_ more than they liked _her_.

They still don't like her all that much.

There are some people, obviously enough for her to still have to dress up and attend parties and the like. But Mari is fairly sure that Finnick's voracious fans consider her 'in the way' of them getting to him. As hard as they try in the Capitol, it's difficult to pretend that they are not attached at the hip most of the time. And they really do try hard, they only make appearances together if called upon to, and even then, she lets Finnick get dragged away if he needs to be. She supposes it is hard to ignore how close they are, even for oblivious Capitol men and women who think they have an actual chance with Finnick.

It is a blessing in a way, to not be revered like Finnick is.

Though, Snow has found plenty of other ways to keep her in line.

Mari cards her fingers through her wet hair and trudges into her room to change. She pulls on a summery dress in all white. She shoves on a pair of shoes and sets out to find Finnick. She slips through his front door and finds him hunched over a coffee in his stainless-steel kitchen. He grunts hello, head in his hands.

She squeezes past him and procures a pair of scissors from one of his kitchen drawers. Then she sits down across from him and offers him the scissors.

"Huh?", he says, blinking sleep from his eyes.

"Can you, _please_ , cut my hair?"

Finnick snorts, dragging his head out of his hands and twirling the scissors in his hands, "Again?"

"Finnick", she says, pressing.

He laughs just a little, "Okay. Come on."

He chugs the last of his coffee and they go out onto his back porch and into the garden. Mari sits in a wooden chair peeling with blue paint in the middle of the unkempt grass and Finnick starts to measure how much she wants him to cut. She decides on several inches, and he gets to work.

By the time he's done her hair sits just above her shoulders. It's no doubt slightly uneven, but Mari could care less. She wouldn't trust anyone else around her with scissors anyway, Finnick's shoddy job would have to do even if she _didn't_ like it.

"Did you not sleep well?", Mari asks as they clean the hair off the grass the best they can.

"Hmm", Finnick hums, "Oh. No, not really. I was up making calls."

"Ah", Mari says, if a bit stiffly.

Finnick doesn't say anything, just dusts the hair off into the bin and goes inside.

Mari sighs and follows him in.

She gets like this sometimes - - _jealous_. Of what, she's hardly sure. She just gets this feeling in her shoulders and running down her back and all of a sudden, she's finding reasons to be mad. And it's not like she even knows who he's been calling, it could be anyone from Capitol officials whose secrets he knows or lovers and confidants who tell him his secrets. It's not like it matters, Mari gets that feeling anyway.

She doesn't tell him, but he knows.

Mari counts down from ten and the feeling goes away.

"I know", Finnick says from the kitchen table.

Mari cocks her head.

"I hate it too", he says, nudging at the empty mug from earlier, "I wish we had never won the Games. I wish _that_ had never happened", he gestures at the phone hanging up on his wall, Mari takes a seat across from him and frowns, "But, Mari. I am _so_ glad you're here with me. I don't know what I'd do without you, really, honestly."

Mari's eyes soften where she didn't even realise they were hardened, "Oh, Finn", she reaches out to hold his hand across the table, "You have nothing to apologise for."

He shakes his head a barely noticeable amount, eyes filled with emotion, "I'm sorry I ignored you after I won. I'm sorry I have to leave when you need me. If I could take everything back for you I would. You're my best friend, Mari."

Mari's heart aches, and her throat wells from the sincerity in his voice, she squeezes his hand tighter, "Finnick. None of that is your fault. We've both done things that we regret, but we're here now. We're going to be okay because we're together."

He smiles this soft, sad smile but seems to agree.

He squeezes her hand a little tighter and then lets it go.

"I'm having Bailey over for dinner", Mari says after a few moments, "I'm making fish pie. Do you want to come? I'll have to start soon."

A boyish smile spreads across his face, "Uh, of course."

Mari rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

They get up to head back to Mari's, but not before Finnick locks her in a tight hug in his living room doorway. She's stunned by it more because of the suddenness than anything else, they hug plenty, but this feels full of appreciation and affection. Mari hugs him back, just as tight, just as full of emotion. They stay there for a moment. And then, like nothing has happened Finnick lets her go and pulls her out the door.

Back at hers, Mari is halfway through boiling potatoes when her phone rings. Finnick, who's watching some menial Capitol program on TV, jumps up to answer it for her. He has a short conversation with whoever is on the line - - Mari is sure its Bailey because he says to head over - - and hangs up.

"Bailey is on his way", Finnick says. Mari throws him a haphazard thumbs up and Finnick goes back to watching the Capitol program.

Bailey arrives when Mari is just putting the pie in the oven to cook. He knocks on the door but just comes in anyway. Which Mari doesn't mind, she's used to Finnick doing that enough that it doesn't bother her.

"Hi Bailey", Mari says as she sets the timer for the oven.

"Marina", Bailey replies, standing awkward in the archway, "Finnick."

Finnick hops over the couch to greet him. He does it just a little too enthusiastically, giving Bailey a hug that he seems just a little bit uncomfortable reciprocating. And Mari knows Finnick is doing it just to get on Bailey's nerves. They get along well enough, but Finnick has always had something against Bailey, even when they were all just kids before Mari or Finnick won their Games. Mari suppresses a chuckle as Bailey shoves Finnick off him the best he can without seeming rude.

Again, her relationship with Bailey is complicated.

By all means, the situation is very similar to hers with Finnick. She and Finnick were close when they were young, but then after his Games, he barely talked to her until she won hers - - which of course he explained eventually. Back then she and Bailey were thick as thieves until their father died, and then it took him years to treat her like a person again. She got Finnick and Bailey back at the same time, but she and Bailey never mended their relationship like she and Finnick did.

He's not been a real brother to her since.

She can't blame him though, they both took Wade Fischer's death hard.

Mari tries not to think about it. There isn't anything they can do.

Just carry on as they are.

She gives Bailey a brief hug and tells him to sit down wherever he wants. Dinner will be ready soon enough. Mari sits at the dining room table with him and turns her chair toward the TV. Sometimes, she and Finnick watch Capitol television to make fun of it, but mostly they watch it because there's nothing else to do. Some ridiculous show about Capitol fashion is on, and someone who reminds Mari of Effie Trinket is shrieking over a gaudy dress in a disgusting green colour.

Bailey has his brows furrowed and is looking at the screen critically.

She almost sighs at that. People in the Districts don't often watch Capitol television. Almost everyone owns a TV but that's only because viewing the Games is mandatory, so usually, they are turned off and shoved into corners for the rest of the year. Bailey does the same. Mari is surely seeing them watch out-of-touch Capitol propaganda on a holographic projection in the middle of Mari's living room is odd to him.

They live in different worlds now.

After a short discussion about Bailey's work the timer dings in the kitchen. Finnick switches the TV off and helps Mari pull the pie out of the oven. They serve it up and bring some to Bailey at the table.

"Thank you", Bailey says genuinely.

Mari smiles and breaks hers up the bowl so that it cools faster, before taking a bite. The potato is creamy, and the fish is fresh, it burns her tongue slightly, but she doesn't mind. It reminds her of when her Dad still used to cook for them.

"This is good", Bailey smiles from across from her.

Finnick doesn't need to say anything for her to know he enjoys it. He loves most of her cooking and he constantly asks her to make fish pie, plus he's absolutely inhaling it next to her. Mari almost laughs.

They eat in relative silence until Finnick goes to get leftovers.

"Have you seen all the peacekeepers around?", Bailey taps his fork against his empty bowl, "There are way more peacekeeper boats out at sea these days."

"Really", Mari furrows her eyebrows, careful of what she says, "That's weird."

Bailey hums, carding a hand through his hair, "I thought you guys might know something?"

Finnick shakes his head as he sits down again, "Haven't heard anything about the peacekeepers."

And he's not technically lying, he hasn't.

Mari thinks Bailey can sense they're reluctant to talk about it.

"I've heard... rumours", Bailey says, looking around as if they'll be caught.

They won't, or at least Mari is fairly sure they won't. Mari hasn't stepped out of line, she can't imagine there is a reason for her house to watched or bugged or under surveillance. She assumes they are safe here. But her face still darkens, and she still feels like she might be watched.

"Of what?", Mari asks though she knows what.

"On the docks, someone gave me a pebble with a Mockingjay painted on it", Bailey says, "He said to find him again if I wanted to join the cause."

Finnick goes silent.

"Who?", Mari asks slowly.

Bailey shakes his head, "I- Just some guy who works on the boat next to us. I don't even know his name. Some peacekeepers showed up before I could ask any questions."

Mari furrows her brows, "Did you keep it?"

"What?"

"The pebble", Mari presses if a bit urgently, sitting up further, "Did you keep it?"

"Of course, not", Bailey raises an eyebrow, "I threw it into the ocean once we were out at sea."

"It's not a good idea", Finnick cuts in, looking serious, his half-full bowl discarded in front of him, "Not now. You'll just die."

Bailey's jaw sets in such a way that Mari can tell he is slightly angry, "What's not a good idea?"

"You know _what_ ", Finnick almost spits, "Don't do it if you want to live."

Finnick's face darkens with the reality of his secrets. He knows things they do not.

"You should listen to him", Mari says, "I don't want you getting hurt."

Bailey softens, if slightly, "What if they need me? What if they need _us_."

"Not yet", Mari pleads, she knows better than to ignore Finnick's warnings, " _Please_."

Bailey takes a hard breath in through his mouth and out through his nostrils. He nods slowly, over and over, "Okay, okay. I won't... not now. But,", he lays his hand flat on the wooden table, "I can't just stand by if it becomes serious."

Mari doesn't say anything to that. She would do the same after all.

The air is awkward now, they try to move onto other topics, but it just ends in weird silences. Eventually, Bailey gets up to leave. Mari gives him a short hug, while Finnick just shakes his hand. He says he will call and then he leaves without turning around.

Mari lets out a breath as the door clicks shut behind him.

Before either of them breaks the silence to talk about Bailey, Mari's phone rings.

Mari sighs and pulls the phone off the wall, pressing it to her ear.

"Hello", she says.

"Marina? Is that you.", comes the all too chipper tone of their Capitol escort, Burch.

"Yes. Hi Burch", Mari says, making exasperated eye contact with Finnick.

Finnick rolls his eyes and moves closer.

"Is Finnick there?", Burch asks.

"Yes. What's going on?"

" _Fantastic_ ", Burch exclaims, "I have the pleasure of delivering you some _amazing_ news", and he sounds entirely too happy for the news he brings, "You two are invited to a Capitol gala at President Snow's residence!"

A chill runs down Mari's spine and she's not sure she'd be capable of explaining to Burch just how not amazing that news is, if she were allowed to that is. The thing with Burch is that he used to be a District One mentor, who are perpetually enthusiastic about Capitol events and the Games themselves, so he automatically assumes that she and Finnick are just overjoyed about every Capitol event. It's painful to deal with, especially when the last thing Mari wants to hear is that she's required to attend an event in President Snow's backyard.

"Ah", Mari says flatly, "Thanks."

" _Oooh_ ", Burch coos, "The invitations will arrive in a few days, but I wanted to be the very first to bring you the news. Aren't you just _so_ excited."

Mari sighs, "Sure. I'll tell Finnick."

"Please do", Burch says.

"Bye", Mari says, and she hangs up before he can say anything further.

She sighs, shoves the phone back onto the wall and turns around to face Finnick.

He raises an eyebrow, "What did he want?"

"We're going to Capitol", Mari says dryly, rolling her eyes, " _Yay_."

"Oh, _great_."

 _Just wonderful_. Mari thinks to herself. Just as she starts to feel better, President Snow swoops in to make everything worse. Sometimes Mari wonders if he plans this if he knows. She's sure he does; his job is to make their lives worse. They've sacrificed everything for the Capitol, for Snow. They've killed for their entertainment, they're forced to dress up for them, and all the while are ostracised from their communities for being murderers. They're given a home and riches, and _that's_ supposed to make up for being a puppet the rest of their lives.

At least this is the worst it will get. Mari isn't sure there is anything else Snow could do that he hasn't already to make it worse.

Though his ruthlessness continues to surprise them all.


	10. a doll that looks like you

**MARI HAS NEVER BEEN ONE FOR** drowning her sorrows in alcohol. She’s seen what it’s done to some of the others, like Haymitch and Chaff, who are tipsy at the best of times. But, now, here, surrounded by rambunctious Capitol socialites in President Snow’s backyard, it’s starting to sound like a good idea.

There’s an Avox carrying around a tray of some orange liquid that Mari has no doubt is alcoholic, Mari takes one of the tall glasses and drinks half of it in one go. It tastes mostly like orange juice, but there’s a hint of something else that is probably just spirits. The taste makes her gag, but she grows used to it once she’s not chugging the drink.

The alcohol helps.

She almost understands why Haymitch and Chaff do it. After two drinks she’s left with a fuzzy warm feeling in her hands and her thoughts seem to move through molasses. She can see the appeal of continuing, drinking until everything is a blur and nothing feels bad anymore - - doing it every day so you never have to face reality. But, there are still things that Mari cares about. _People_ that Mari cares about. They’re far more important than quelling the thoughts that bounce around her head.

Despite herself, she grabs a tall flute of champagne off a tray and sips on it while she stands quietly in the corner. One more can’t hurt. It’s not like any one here wants to talk to her, why does it matter if she starts slurring her words.

It’s beyond her why Snow demands their presence. People like Finnick and Cashmere she understands, the people of the Capitol would be outraged if they were not here. But her and Haymitch and Johanna - - she doesn’t understand. It must be just to torture them, she can’t see that anyone else wants her here.

Speaking of, Haymitch Abernathy tries to pass in front of her, but he trips over the leg of a table and falls onto his knees. Mari breathes a deep sigh but bends down to the best of her ability and helps him up. She’s careful not to spill her drink or rip her dress but is able to haul him up with one hand.

He hiccups, “Lovebird!”, he says in recognition as he clambers to his feet.

“Hello Haymitch”, Mari gives him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. He looks steadier on his feet and remarkably more sober than she assumed he would be. Despite the huge wine glass in his hand.

“Congratulations on your victory”, Mari says bitingly, “You must be proud.”

Haymitch tips his head back, looking exasperated for a moment before his head falls back into place and he just looks bored, “Oh, of course”, he says sarcastically.

“I hope they’re not more trouble than they’re worth.”

Haymitch quirks an eyebrow, “You have no idea.”

“I imagine”, Mari pulls the thin strap that threatens to fall off her shoulder, “Peeta seems well suited to all of this”, she waves a hand around, “But Katniss seems… difficult.”

“The girl is a nightmare”, Haymitch tips a gulp of wine into his mouth at that.

“Are they here tonight?”, Mari asks, looking around at the crowd, even though it’s so jam-packed that she has no chance of spotting them even if they are.

Haymitch shakes his head, mouth full of wine, “Their first appearance will be the Victory Tour”, he says ‘Victory Tour’ with a sort of mocking relish, “Besides, I think the girl would go crazy. It’s only been a few months.”

Mari nods. She can sympathise with that. The first months after your Games are the worst - - because you’re out and you think you’ll be okay and then you’re back in your district sitting in a big house that isn’t your home yet, you have nightmares when you’re still awake, people look at you funny when you pass in the streets, and everything that used to be normal feels like a threat to your life. It’s a lot to adjust to.

Snow usually grants the Victors the reprieve of a few months to digest their experience, but after the Victory Tour you’re fair game for galas and parties and appearances. Though, even _that_ feels too soon.

“How are things in Twelve”, Mari asks conversationally.

Haymitch shrugs, “Miserable as always”, they say nothing for a moment as Haymitch takes another long drink of the crimson coloured wine, “You?”

“Fine”, Mari says, her eyes wander across the crowd and she spots Johanna Mason looking angry by a table of food, “There are more peacekeepers than usual.”

A shadow casts over Haymitch’s face, “Interesting.”

Mari hums, remembering the mockingjay painted on that pebble, “Oh, it’s nothing”, she says in case anyone is listening, though from the look on Haymitch’s face he knows that it isn’t nothing, “We’ve had a bit of a flu outbreak. Must be replacements.”

“Of course.” Haymitch replies, an edge to his voice that Mari can barely detect.

She senses their conversation is bordering on dangerous, so she says a brief goodbye and starts through the crowds. Haymitch takes her spot against the tree, nursing a fresh drink that he picks up as she leaves. Mari slips through the crowds unnoticed. (She’s barely recognisable without her hair extensions, _besides_ , surely no one wants to talk to her). She comes out on the other side of the crowd of Capitol citizens to the table that Johanna is loitering by.

The table is adorned with trays of bite sized canapés, fruit and meat and cheese stacked on top of biscuits and tiny breads. Johanna leans on a pillar next to it, biting into a tart with smoked salmon folded on top of it, she’s dressed in a heavy forest green dress, adorned with leaf patterns and heavy beads, her many long braids are twisted up on top of her head, a section of which is loose and hangs down her back. She has an unimpressed look all over her face and looks nothing like herself.

“Johanna”, Mari says, climbing the last few stairs.

Johanna’s head turns slowly toward her, something just short of a smile passes over her face, relief perhaps, “Fischer.”

“Hi”, Mari stops in front of Johanna, glancing her up and down, “Who put you in _that_?”

Johanna rolls her eyes, “ _Fuck you_. Finnick said the same thing. I look like an _idiot_ ”, she throws a hand out at Mari’s dress, “At least you look normal.”

Normal is right.

The dress she’s wearing is a plain satin dress with a cowl neck and tiny little straps, its sea-foam white and stops half-way down her thighs. It’s not much to look at, especially with the smattering of purple on her eyelids and the choppy hair that stops at her shoulders. Evey had a fit when she saw Mari’s hair, and had only enough time to wash it and trim the uneven ends, making it even shorter. The only thing that makes her stand out is the way the dress clings to her waist and bust - - but even then.

Mari prefers it this way at least, she likes being too boring for the Capitol.

At least she isn’t bothered like Finnick is.

“Thanks”, Mari drawls, picking up one of the canapés - - a piece of watermelon and a mint leaf piled on top a strawberry - - she bites into it, “You look fine. Besides, you can blend in with one of the trees.”

Johanna scowls, “Piss off, Marina.”

Mari laughs, short and loud.

“I figured you and Odair would be joined at the hip tonight”, Johanna says, picking at the polish on her freshly manicured nails, “You always are at these things.”

Mari shakes her head, “No. You know Snow, Finnick has things to _attend_ to.”

Johanna rolls her eyes again.

“Is Blight here?”, Mari asks.

Johanna shrugs, “He came with me.”

They stand in companionable silence, picking canapés one by one off the tray. Johanna send a heavy glare toward a poufy looking Capitol socialite who tries to walk over to them, he turns around quickly. Mari nearly laughs.

“What do you think of Katniss”, Johanna says abruptly, watermelon and strawberry still stuffed into her mouth.

Mari raises an eyebrow, shrugging, “Like, sure she was smart in the arena. But she would’ve died without Peeta, he was the only thing giving her sponsors. Without him she was just… _silly_.”

Johanna hums in agreement, “She’s certainly caused a fucking fuss for being silly.”

Johanna is right. Across the crowd there are people adorned in glittering gold and green, reminiscent of Katniss’s mockingjay and the forest landscape of the Games. A few people have their hair braided similar to Katniss, though always with a Capitol twist. It all looks incredibly garish, and she imagines Katniss would hate it.

The trend will pass though, in a few short weeks they’ll be onto some new strange manner of dressing, a new colour palette, a new style, whatever it is. Katniss’ braid, and the gold and green will be replaced by something they deem to be better.

“Well”, Mari says, “Despite herself, she’s interesting. _They_ obviously love her.”

Johanna just scowls, rightfully angry at the Capitol citizens she stares out at. She deserves that. They all have lots of reasons to hate Snow, to hate the Capitol, but Johanna more than most of them.

“ _Fuck this_ ”, Johanna mutters under her breath, “Fuck them.”

“Johanna”, Mari warns.

Johanna nods, jaw set, “I know.”

“I’m going to leave you to it”, Mari says gently, “I’ll see you next time.”

Johanna takes a hard breath in through her nose, “Yeah. Next time.”

**SOMEONE’S HAND WRAPS AROUND** her arm and tugs her backward into them. Mari’s heart skips a beat as she come hurtling back into them, her back colliding with their chest. She suppresses the urge to elbow them wherever she can reach. It’s lucky she doesn’t do that too, because when she turns around she discovers that it’s Finnick who has a grip on her arm.

“Fuck you”, Mari bites, tugging her arm out his hand, “What was that for.”

Finnick gives her this insufferable grin that he only has on his face because they’re surrounded by his adoring fans, “Sorry.”, he leans his head down to whisper by her ear, “Snow is over that way.”

Mari pulls back as a shiver runs down her shoulders, her annoyance calms, “Oh, thanks. Sorry for getting mad.”

Finnick shrugs, “It’s fine.”

Mari moves back a few steps so she’s not chest to chest with him. She’d barely seen him since they got on the train earlier, she’d been shoved into a room with Evey and him with the prep team, and then by the time all that was done they were at the Capitol and both of them were being whisked off separately.

He looks different here. Which isn’t anything out of the ordinary. The prep team has restored his hair to its crowning glory - - it had grown too long and too messy in District Four - - there’s a smattering of makeup across his face and he’s definitely tanner than Mari remembers him being. But that may just be the light.

He’s beautiful, sure. But he doesn’t look anything like himself.

“You look good”, Finnick smirks, he looks her up and down and then pulls a weird face and mimes squeezing at his chest with both his hands.

“Huh”, Mari is confused for a second, and then whacks his arm when she realises what he means, “Oh, _fuck off_.”, she leans in to hiss at him, trying not to be overheard by the people around them (though people are looking), “Of course I look good.”

Finnick just laughs, loud and seemingly genuine, it’s out of place considering where they are but Mari is grateful for it, “I’m joking, I’m joking”, he says, “I’m just not used to it. It’s _weird_.”

Mari rolls her eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face.

Their moment of happiness doesn’t last long though, because soon enough a tall woman in high heels and a long purple dress teeters over and leans in far too close to Finnick. She says something Mari can’t hear and suddenly Finnick has to leave.

He gives her an apologetic look over the woman’s shoulder, but Mari can’t bear to hold it against him. She smiles back and tries to tell him not to worry about it.

They disappear into the crowd.

Mari sighs and takes a seat at one of the empty tables, she grabs another drink off a tray that one of the Avox is carrying around. It’s her fourth, and though the other three seem to have worn off now, Mari knows that this one will hit her harder than she expects it will. She wasn’t even planning on having anymore to drink.

For a brief moment, Mari wishes she and Finnick could have normal lives. She wishes neither of them had won their Games, she wishes they had finished school together, she wishes they had both gotten jobs, she wishes they had bought houses, gotten married, had kids. Maybe not by now, but she wishes that were a possibility for them. In a world where they don’t win their Games, or perhaps in a world where the Games don’t exist. She wonders what that would all look like (and there’s a second where she imagines their lives together). But she pushes it out of her mind as quickly as it had appeared. There’s no point dwelling on things that will never happen.

She doesn’t know why she’s thinking these things here of all places. This no place to _dwell_. Not when every little thing reminds her of everything that she can’t have.

She tips her head back and takes a swig of her drink.

As she tips her head back down and sets her drink back on the table she sees President Snow stalking slowly through the crowd, and it’s like a nightmare descends. The crowd parts for him, clapping for him and shaking his hand, and then Mari realises that he’s coming straight for her.

Her heart starts to beat in her ears.

It feels like years before he reaches her. She begins to feel dizzy as he gets closer and closer and closer, until eventually he’s sitting in the seat across from her and she has no clue when he sat down.

“Miss Fischer”, he says, voice deep and smooth and most of all _cold_.

“President Snow”, Mari feels like prey, like she’ll be ripped apart at any moment.

(And she could be. He could snap his fingers and she would die right here).

“Lovely party isn’t it”, he says, he gestures at the scene around them like a God displaying his creation, “The Capitol has missed their Victors. I thought they would enjoy seeing you all again.”

Mari smiles as pleasantly as she can considering the circumstances, “And how we’ve missed them.”

Snow gives an imperceptible nod, on the table he sets one hand on top of the other, Mari can’t help but stare at every movement he makes, waiting for him to strike, “I can’t help but notice you and Mr Odair this afternoon.”

Mari’s heart skips a beat, the pounding in her ears grows louder and it’s all she can do to stop herself from breathing too fast, “What-”, her voice trembles, “-about us?”

Snow leans in ever so slightly, “I think you know, Miss Fischer.”, Mari feels dizzy again, “You would do well to squash any notion of so-called normalcy here. I allow you to do whatever you please back in your District. But here, Mr Odair has _obligations_. Remember your place Miss Fischer, unless you would like to end up like his father.”

Mari nods slowly, “Of course. I will.”

“Wonderful”, he says, “Have a wonderful night.”

He stands, and he leaves.

A chill runs all the way down Mari’s spine and she does everything she can to stop from completely blacking out. The world tunnels in in front of her several times until she gains back control of her breathing. She’d always know Caspian Odair had died because of Snow, because Finnick showed reluctance at being offered up to the Capitol as a prize. But it’s a shock to the system to hear it out loud, to hear it from Snow’s very own mouth.

And she had _known_ they were getting too comfortable in the Capitol, or at least in view of others. She had known that talking to Finnick at this party was a bad idea. It was foolish to assume that Snow doesn’t have eyes everywhere. He gives them the liberty to act as they wish when they are in private, but they just can’t help themselves.

By the time she has collected herself somewhat and downed the last of her drink, the party is dwindling. People are leaving through the garden gates, she sees Burch leave with someone on his arm, and Blight from District Seven not far behind.

Mari takes that as a sign that it’s okay to go.

Still, as she finds Johanna back by the canapé table and walks with her toward the exit, her heart beats rapidly as she fears Snow will appear again to threaten her life.

They walk the whole way back to the Training Centre, where their rooms are in silence. Johanna is quietly seething, and Mari only found her so that she was sure Johanna would not accidentally snap and kill someone from the Capitol on the way back. They climb the steps, go in through the front entrance and take the glass elevators up.

Mari gets off at floor four and Johanna gives her a rare squeezing hug as she gets off.

Upon entering Mari comes across Evey sprawled across the couch in simple clothes, she mutters something about not wanting to walk all the way home and Mari tells her its fine. She covers Evey with a blanket, fearing she will fall asleep on the couch, and heads off to her room.

Finnick isn’t here, she has no doubt he will be back in the early hours of the morning or not at all. But she still goes to sleep in his bed.

Mari peels off the sea-foam white dress, discarding it by the laundry chute and hops into the shower. Her vision is slightly blurry from the four drinks and she can’t quite think straight, so she mashes several buttons, scrubs herself down and then dries herself off with a towel rather than let the shower do it. She pulls on a comfortable t-shirt from the drawers and climbs into bed.

Despite her anxiety and worry from her unexpected chat with Snow earlier, the alcohol in her blood and the stress in her bones weighs her down and makes her feel tired. She falls asleep with little trouble but has nightmares about blood and rose thorns and drowning at sea.

She wakes early morning in a sweat, the nightmare disappears as she tries to chase it. Finnick is sitting at the end of the bed, dishevelled and tired.

“Mari”, he says softly.

“Finn”, she props herself up.

Now is not the time to tell him of Snow’s threat.

“I’m going to be here for a bit longer.”

She expected that of course, this is what always happens.

“Do you know how long?”

“Luckily only a few days”, Finnick says, but he still looks sad, “Everyone is still so caught up with Katniss, less people are interested in my company.”

“Okay”, she says.

She shuffles forward to give him a hug.

He hugs her back with an unusual ferocity, like he will lose her if he lets her go.

“I’ll see you at home”, he says, “I have to go.”

Mari nods into his shoulder, and then lets his go when he starts to release her.

“Come home”, she says like she usually does.

“I will, I promise.”


	11. did i take this shit too far

**MARI IS UP IN HER ROOM WHEN FINNICK** comes home from the Capitol. She's on her windowsill, watering the bed of flowers that hang out the window. She watches him, small rolling suitcase in hand, walk up the Victors Village and go into his house.

She mills about, cleaning around the house, growing increasingly bored until about an hour later when she realises that she's waiting for him to arrive. He always visits her when he's home from the Capitol and she wonders what's keeping him.

She waits around for the rest of the day, but he doesn't come.

By eleven at night she's sitting at her spotless kitchen counter, her leg jutting up and down enough that it makes the stool rattle. She looks out the window at the dark and empty street again and tries to will herself to calm down. There's nothing to worry about, he's not in any danger, she even has proof that he made it home safely.

Mari has no clue why the anxiety in the pit of her stomach is there.

Eventually, she decides to go up to bed, if he hasn't come by now Mari imagines he isn't coming at all.

She crawls under the covers and switches her lamp off, but sleep is nowhere near overtaking her. She tosses and turns and can't stop thinking about why he's not come over. It's so out of the ordinary. He always wants to see her after he visits the Capitol. Mari hates to feel jealous or possessive of him, he can do whatever he wants of course, but it feels _weird_ for him not to be here.

For a moment she thinks about what Snow said to her the other week, and she wonders if Finnick has somehow found out what he said to her. If he is angry that she hasn't told him yet. She flares with worry at that. She's not sure how to broach that subject with Finnick, how to tell him that Snow threatened her life. She's not even sure what it would mean if she did tell him, how he would react, what he would do. She just hopes that no one else has said anything, she doesn't want that information getting to him from anyone else. It is hers to give when she decides.

She is filled with worry and anxiety as she stares up at her dark ceiling. Thoughts about Snow's threat turns into thoughts about Finnick turns into thoughts about rebellion turns into thoughts about her Games. She spirals for the rest of the night, and only manages small amounts of restless sleep plagued with nightmares until the sun starts to come up and she can't pretend to sleep anymore.

Eyes heavy and head pounding Mari drags herself out of bed. It's barely five in the morning when she looks at the clock. She settles herself on the windowsill and watches as pinks and oranges and purples spread across the sky, and not long after the first rays of sun begin to peek up over the empty house across from hers.

Once the sun has risen she forces herself in and out of the shower and then downstairs into the kitchen. She makes a simple breakfast and wonders what on earth she is going to do today. She's still wracked with this inexplicable anxiety about Finnick and _desperately_ needs to find something to do to distract herself.

At some point, she moves into the backyard and starts to dig up a garden bed. Her garden is far bigger than she has ever needed, it used to be all grass until she decided to fill it with patches of dirt and flowers. There are only a few spots still empty for her to dig up. She's out there for what feels like hours, hands in dirt, shovel in dirt. Digging up grass and chucking it into piles. By the time she is done, there's a four-foot by four-foot space in the southwest corner of her garden, ready for flowers whenever she comes across the right ones. She spends more time tilling the soil, adding fertiliser and loosening it up so it's not so difficult to dig up later.

Finnick still hasn't visited.

Sometimes, Finnick is _complicated_. Not Finnick himself, just their relationship.

They have been best friends since they were five years old. He has been with her through her Mother's death, even when they barely knew what death meant. They were completely inseparable even through that phase where little boys are supposed to hate little girls - - they never hated each other. They were there for each other during their first reaping, she was there for him when he had to sign up for tesserae at thirteen, and she tried to be there for him when he was reaped at fourteen.

After the ceremony, she ran to the Justice Hall and cried and cried until the peacekeepers forced her to leave. The hugged each other tight and he promised her that he would do his best to win for her.

And then he did.

But after he won, it was different. He came back, and he wasn't the same person anymore. He barely talked to her, barely even acted like they were best friends before this. And Mari tried to understand, tried to keep her anger inside, tried not to scream at him to talk to her again. But then he stopped talking to her, stopped seeing her altogether, and Mari couldn't hold it together anymore. She began to resent him, mostly because they were supposed to be there for each other forever, but also because she could hardly understand what it was like to come back from the Games a victor, especially the youngest victor. Only fourteen and already revered by the Capitol as some sort of God.

She began to see him in Capitol programs on the TV, saw him leaving on the train only to come back weeks later, stopped seeing him at the markets, at the beach.

So, she gave up hope and stopped wishing that he would come back to her.

Her father died a year later after he was executed for giving away medical supplies to the poor. And Mari kept going as she always did. She kept going to school, kept going to ballet class, got a part-time job at the surgeon's office where Wade Fischer used to work. Bailey stopped caring after their father died, he went to work and brought home money for them, but he stopped talking to her, stopped cooking, stopped cleaning. He stopped being her brother.

Mari kept seeing Finnick everywhere in District Four, but by the time she was eighteen, facing her last ever reaping, she had stopped feeling that pang in her chest every time she looked at him. It was just resentment and resignation at this point. That was all that her life was now. Just a monotony.

And then her name was called and Finnick told her everything. And all of a sudden everything she has been holding in for years comes flooding back all at once.

After she wins, they rebuild.

Slowly, their friendship returns to normal and Mari looks at every feeling she had as a thirteen-year-old with new eyes. What they have is more than friendship, they both know that on some level. It's more than that, it always has been. Even when they were five and didn't know what love was. But they're both too scared to admit it, to themselves and to each other.

Mari is not sure it's safe either. She would prefer to keep Finnick as a best-friend than lose him as something more.

She imagines that he would too.

That is another reason why she is reluctant to share Snow's threat with Finnick. What are they supposed to do if their very friendship is a threat to Mari's life? Finnick can be protective, and Mari fears he would stop talking to her like he did last time.

Mari fears losing Finnick most of all.

Later that night, she starts to wonder if Finnick came home at all. Did she hallucinate seeing him because she missed him so much? It certainly wouldn't be the first time she had hallucinated something. She shakes her head at that, she wouldn't have hallucinated. He was there, she's sure of it.

Sometimes it is frustrating how much she relies on Finnick.

He is her best friend, _yes_. But it is scary how much she threatens to fall apart when he is not here with her. Surely that is not something sustainable. What happens if one of them dies? What happens if he finds someone else? Someone else that matters more to him than Mari?

He's Finnick Odair, he isn't going to stay alone forever. One day, he will find someone who he loves, and Mari won't be able to bring herself to interrupt that. But when it comes, she will have to figure out a way to do this herself, to do this without him. She wonders if she should be doing that already, relying on herself rather than him. He has his own traumas, his own nightmares. Maybe he just doesn't need hers piled on top of his? Maybe that's why he's not visited.

She tries not to worry, though the thought keeps resurfacing no matter how much she pushes it down.

And then when she's about to give up and head to bed, there's a knock at her door. Her heart beats a little too fast as she heads over to answer it. She opens the door and Finnick stands on the other side, backlit by the soft glow of the street lamps.

"Hi", he says.

"Hi", Mari replies slowly, moving out the way so he can walk inside.

He hugs her, but it feels off. Too short, too insincere. It worries Mari.

They sit on the couch.

"Sorry I didn't come earlier", he says, "I was tired and then I had a bunch of phone calls. I couldn't find a moment."

"That's okay", Mari says, even though it isn't and she's only just feeling better because he's actually here now, "I'm just glad you're back. Do you want to talk about the trip?"

He shakes his head, "Not really."

Mari nods.

The silence is stifling.

There's not much to talk about now that they've eliminated the one new thing that's happened recently. But that is fine, Mari doesn't expect him to tell her about things he isn't ready to. It happens sometimes, he needs his own time to think about what has happened to him. She supposes that that is what has happened since he's come home. It's out of the ordinary _sure_ , but she doesn't want to tell him that he's dealing with his trauma the wrong way.

So instead, Mari switches on the TV, he shuffles closer to her on the couch and they spend the rest of the night watching some ridiculous Capitol program that at least gets their mind off what's going on.

He doesn't stay the night as he usually would. He gives her another hug that feels all too wrong, says goodnight and leaves for his home.

She is unsure what to feel about it all.

On one hand, Mari understands the need for space and time to deal with what has happened to you. On the other hand, Mari recognises that they have dealt with everything together for as long as Mari can remember. Though, somewhere deep in her, she has always felt like a burden to him. Perhaps he is finally sick of it, perhaps he has outgrown his need for her when she has not outgrown her need for him. (And honestly, she is not sure that she ever will).

She goes to bed shaking with worry.

Her nightmares are plagued with abstracts of Finnick leaving her and her drowning out in an endless ocean. She wakes up the next morning breathing heavy and a thin layer of sweat all over. It takes her a while to get herself under control before she can even get out of bed.

Somewhere around the middle of the day she calls and asks Bailey to meet her by the entrance to the Victors Village. He does, and they set off on a walk through the District.

"Are you okay?", he asks when they halfway down the winding road leading up to the Victors Village from the main part of town.

Mari glances sideways at him. It interesting to realise that their relationship may be damaged beyond repair, but he still knows her better than she knows herself, "Maybe. Why?"

"Maybe", he says, ignoring her question, "Is it Finnick?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you're not spending time with him", Bailey rolls his eyes, "You're always with him. There has to be something wrong if you're calling me to go on a _walk_."

"Can't I see my brother?", Mari counters.

"Come on", Bailey sighs, "You know we don't do that. Now, what's going on?"

Mari breathes in hard through her nose, they walk a little further, hitting the outskirts of town that are littered with abandoned houses and empty fields, "I don't know", she shakes her head, "I mean. Finnick is being _weird_. But it's nothing."

"Bullshit", Bailey says, "You've known him since you were five, it can't be _nothing_."

Mari shrugs, "Okay, _sure_. That doesn't change that I don't know what it is."

"Then ask him."

"No."

"Why?"

Mari fixes him with a look, "Like _we_ ever talked about our problems."

"Yeah", Bailey rolls his eyes, "That's why we barely see each other."

Mari sighs. Bailey is right about that. Their relationship is unrepairable at this stage. Sure, they'll still be family on some level, but it will never be the same as it used to. They've both done things they regret. But they've seen each other more in the past few months than they have for years, Mari isn't sure what it is. Nostalgia maybe? Still, frequency isn't the same as quality. They will never regain what they used to have.

She and Finnick are different, they were able to repair what they lost.

"I don't know", she says again, "I'm worried about what he'll say."

Bailey shrugs but doesn't offer anything else. She supposes that he has said what he can, if she won't accept it there's not much more he can say to help.

They cut through an alleyway and into the town centre in front of the Justice Building. Her worries about Finnick fade quickly when she sees the number of armed peacekeepers in the streets. They're standing in pockets of three, shoulder to shoulder, clearly armed to the teeth. There are dozens of them all across the square and when she turns her head she sees them in a lesser volume stretching down the roads. She tries not to stand too still for too long and tries to force the shock and panic off her face. Bailey mutters something under his breath next to her and they walk through the town square at the most casual pace that they can.

Once they've hurried down the main street of shops, through the markets and onto the grassy path to District Fours east beach, Bailey finally lets out a loud scoff, "There was at least a _hundred_ of them. _Fuck_."

Usually, peacekeepers don't put her on edge. But _usually,_ there are only a few scattered about. Even on the day she and Finnick saw more arrive at the train station the other week there were less than that. It fills her with a particular anxiety.

It doesn't bode well for Bailey either, he's the one that watched a peacekeeper kill their father for giving medicine to the poor. He's hated peacekeepers since that day. (It's not like Mari doesn't hate them too, she does. But she hasn't been _scared_ of them. She's never had a reason to fear peacekeepers, especially not as a victor).

"Keep your voice down", Mari says harshly.

"Why? They can't hear me here", he raises an eyebrow, "They shouldn't be able to control us with fear, Mari. They shouldn't get to kill us while they sit all high and mighty in the Capitol. Reaping the rewards of our hard work and killing our children."

A wave of red-hot anger that Mari hasn't felt in a long time runs down her spine, she turns on Bailey, stopping him in his tracks, "You do _not_ know where they can't hear you from. They could be listening right now", she jabs a finger into his chest with each sentence, "Do not say shit like that in public - - out loud even. You're going to get yourself killed. Do you want that Bailey? Do you fucking want that?"

He shoves her finger off his chest, looking just as pissed as Mari probably does. Mostly because he probably realises that she's right. There's no safety to say whatever you want to, even here.

"They made _me_ kill our children Bailey", she says, anger deflating from her body like a popped balloon, "I'm their puppet now. If I make one wrong move, they could kill you too. Do you want that?"

He sighs, defeat heavy on his face, "No. I don't want that."

"Then be careful what you say", Mari says, letting her hand fall to her side.

Bailey nods slowly and runs a hand over his face, "I'm going to go", he says, "I've had enough for today."

Mari lets him leave, even though his words flare up her anger again. He has _no idea_ what the Capitol is capable of, what Snow is capable of. It makes her furious that he doesn't seem to take his life seriously. They might not be close, but she doesn't want him to die, because then she would _truly_ have no family. Regardless of that, there is not even a rebellion to die for yet.

She decides not to waste the walk to the beach, she makes her way down the rest of the grassy path and sits on the beach for a while. She wonders if this peacekeeper business is happening anywhere else, from talking to Haymitch it had seemed like _something_ was going on, but it is beyond impossible to get a proper answer out of anyone about rebellion and peacekeeper efforts to quell it.

There is more of a rebellion forming in District Four than Mari had realised, and the pebble that that stall owner had handed her was just the tip of the iceberg.

For Bailey's sake, she hopes that he doesn't get involved. She honestly doesn't see a way that a rebellion from the Districts will be successful, especially not with this amount of peacekeepers lurking about. No matter how much she wishes it would work.

Mari is not sure one will _ever_ be successful.


	12. i keep trying to let you go

**AUTUMN DESCENDS ON DISTRICT FOUR** rapidly as it always does. One day it's humid and the sun beats down hot and then the next it is all of a sudden too cold to swim in the ocean or go out without layers. It won't snow, not even in the midst of winter on the coldest days. They only get crisp blue skies and frost.

The beach is cold and windy most days, so Mari has lost a significant way of wasting her time. She goes down occasionally, but sometimes the wind will pick up and blow sand into her face and it reminds her more of her Games it's raging sandstorms than the beach in the height of summer ever will. It's fine though if she can't head to the beach she heads down to the docks and offers her services to the fishmonger that she and Finnick hung around when they were little. He doesn't have to pay her either, so her help is more than welcomed.

The months since the Capitol party have been arduous, so Mari welcomes any distraction she can get. She's been plunged into fits of anxiety more and more frequently than usual, mostly stemming from Snow's threat, but also from her various other problems. Which are numerous.

A few weeks back Mags had come down with a particularly harsh cold, seemingly from nowhere. Mari could only assume she got it while visiting the markets with one of them. It got worse rapidly, her coughing and fever lasting for _days_. She, Annie, and Finnick had taken turns staying with her in case she needed anything. It only started to get better after a doctor had prescribed Mags medicine to help. She's stopped coughing and her fever hasn't reappeared, but she's still often too weak to stand for long or move by herself. Annie has stayed with her for the whole week so far, Mari imagines she will not leave until Mags is better. The doctor had said she would regain her strength eventually and that they have to be patient, but Mari is still worried.

They all try not to think about it.

It is hard.

Especially because Finnick hasn't been himself these past few months. He's been _off_ since he got home from the Capitol last, everything feels distant and forced. Of course, there have been moments of normality. Where everything is okay again and Mari thinks he will be back to normal, but it never lasts long.

That gives her more anxiety than anything. She knows Mags will be okay because at the end of the day they have the Capitol's resources at their disposal. The threat from Snow will amount to nothing because it is as simple as not talking to each other in the Capitol and Mari can do that for the sake of her life. But her and Finnick falling out, their friendship fading for a second time around - - that is harder than anything else she can imagine happening.

Every time she feels him growing distant, she's launched into a panic that she's sure is showing all over her face. He _must_ know that this is affecting her, he must know what he's doing. It worries her that he hasn't said anything. It has to be something serious if he has stayed quiet about it for this long, she wonders what had happened during that Capitol visit after she left. Or if it's something bigger than that, if he is finally realising that he doesn't need her like she needs him.

She tries to push it from her mind. There's no use dwelling over something that she's too scared to talk about. Who knows what will happen if she says something, maybe that's all he's waiting for before he tells her that he can't be there for her anymore.

Though, Mari isn't self-absorbed enough to say that her possibly losing Finnick again is the worst thing to ever happen (though she certainly feels like it is). Since the end of the 74th Games, District Four has been in turmoil, in the streets the stirrings of rebellion are becoming increasingly obvious, while peacekeepers continue to multiply in number and arm themselves with more and more threatening weapons each day.

There have been floggings of those who are caught with Mockingjay pebbles - - all done publicly, so everyone has to watch. Several have died from their wounds. The woman from the markets who gave her that pebble months ago has since disappeared, there is no word where she has gone and no record of her execution or death. Mari wonders if the rebellion efforts are continuing somewhere underground.

She doubts it. But if they are, Mari does not imagine they will recover from this. The peacekeepers are not likely to subside. District Four will be different now.

Bailey has since stopped ranting about rebellion and his hatred of the Capitol. Albeit, she and Bailey have stopped seeing each other as much, going back to infrequent meetings often by sheer chance. Perhaps he has just stopped talking to her about it, especially because of the way she reacted last time he did. She hopes, for his sake, he is truly keeping out of it. But Bailey has always had rage in him - - they both have - - and this doesn't seem like something that he will just let go of.

She doesn't like to walk through town much anymore unless it's totally necessary. Mari doesn't remember the last time there were this many peacekeepers in the streets, it's never been like this in her lifetime. It's no longer calming to walk through the town centre and she only passes by the justice building if the other paths are bogged down by mud. It's a chore to avoid peacekeepers and even taking the routes she does, there is always a chance she will run into one of them - - stationed on a corner or up against a wall, a shock baton or gun in their hands. But Mari would rather take the long way to avoid them than walk by hordes of them every time she goes to the docks or the markets.

On her way back from the docks, Mari cuts through the backyard of an abandoned house and follows the dirt path alongside a field scattered with goats. She reaches the Victors Village not long after, fortunately not having run into any peacekeepers.

She has nothing to hide from them, technically nothing to fear from them. Especially because she is a victor. Yet, it worries to her see so many of them in places that they do not usually stand guard. She feels watched, it's too much like the Capitol.

Once back in her house, Mari pulls a mason jar full of caramelised cashews off a lone wooden shelf on her kitchen wall. She sits at her kitchen counter and chews on a handful while she waits. Finnick had said he would visit around this time and Mari had cut her visit to the docks short to make it back in time.

She hopes he really will come.

He does, not ten minutes after she's sat down, he walks in through the front door, a hand buried in his hair. He sits across from her without even a simple hello.

Mari has to stop herself from huffing indignantly.

There has been a rift widening between them recently. It's only gotten progressively worse since their last Capitol visit - - he doesn't see her near as much as he used to, he barely _ever_ stays the night, and he's always holding something back when he speaks to her. She sees how withdrawn he is all over him every time they're together. They both know it's happening, yet Mari hasn't yet been able to bring herself to ask why. She's just holding onto the last shreds of their friendship and hoping that it doesn't fade into nothing.

"Hi", she says, an edge of annoyance to it.

"Hi", he replies absently.

"What did you need?", Mari asks, her finger worrying at the wood of the table.

She chokes up a little, as she often does around Finnick these days. It's difficult to talk to him sometimes, always reminded of the lack of closeness and how he's _different_.

"Oh", he says, looking back at her, "I wanted to talk about Mags."

"What about her?"

"Well", Finnick says, holding his left hand in the other, "I think we need to consider taking her to the Capitol."

Mari nods, "Of course", she nudges the jar of cashews toward Finnick, he takes one, "But she needs to say yes. If she doesn't want to go, we can't take her. It wouldn't be right", she sighs, "Besides, the Doctor said she needed rest. Taking her to the Capitol right now is going to put unnecessary stress on her."

"She's not getting better, Mari", Finnick says, sounding uncharacteristically angry.

Mari bristles, suddenly irate from his unwarranted anger. She sits up, her back a little straighter, her eyebrows raised, "You think I don't know that?", a sort of malice creeps into her voice, months of stress and frustration and worry seeping in, "She needs as much rest right now as she can get. You ask her. If she wants to go, _take her_. I'm not fucking stopping you."

His eyebrows slant in towards the bridge of his nose and his mouth twists into something that is almost a scowl, "What's your problem?", he asks.

Mari stands up out of instinct, the chair slides back with a screech, "What _my_ problem?", her voice raises, "What's yours? You've been distant since we came back from Snow's party _months ago_. And now you're acting like I don't care about Mags."

Finnick shakes his head, a hard frown on his mouth, "Don't do this now Mari."

" _Don't do this now?",_ Mari repeats, slow, but building with hysteria, "Do _what_? I don't get it Finnick? What have I done? Where the fuck is this all coming from? I get it, you need time to heal, you need time to be by yourself, but it's been _months_. What changed? Why won't you talk to me anymore?"

He shuts his eyes and breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth, "We're talking right now, Mari. I'm sorry if I've been distant, but I don't know what you mean."

As he says it, she knows he doesn't mean it. It feels wrong and insincere, like the hugs he's been giving her. He's always been good at lying, but not to her. Never to her.

Her face twists into what is surely a pitifully sad expression, she looks up at him, "Please", she pleads, "Don't do this again, don't leave me. I don't know what to do without you."

He looks at her and sighs and she knows it's over right then and there, "I have to go", he says, "I have to talk to Mags and then I'm leaving for the Capitol."

Mari's face drains of her anger and her sadness, she looks just past his shoulder, feeling defeated by his dismissal of the topic, "Okay", she says, "Fine."

"I'll be back in a few days", he says, looking as sympathetic as he can muster, "A week maybe. We can talk about this later. If Mags is better."

Mari shrugs, "Sure."

He leaves then, a frown on his face and something sad in his eyes.

Mari lets out a deep breath, that breaks in the middle of her exhale. She manages to keep the other sobs from following it. The reality of what has just happened is settling in her chest. She manages to squash it down for the moment, taking a seat on the couch and switching on something to distract her.

It works for a while.

The sun goes down outside and her stomach begins to growl, but she can't bring herself to draw the blinds or make anything to eat. It would be too much. She's barely clinging onto her sanity watching this show, she fears that tearing her eyes away from the gaudy Capitol citizens squawking on about fashion and parties and food will set her off.

It's not a good idea of course. She's spending so much time fixated on the program, trying to ignore what has happened, that she doesn't even realise that the panic is welling up in her throat. Threatening to spill over.

The metaphorical dam that is her emotions breaks when one of the presenters says something offhandedly about Finnick. It's harmless and typical of a Capitol citizen, but she's been holding so much in these past few months, these past few hours, that it hardly matters at all. The panic spills out of her mouth with a loud, unrestrained sob.

She claps her hand over her mouth and her loud cries come out muffled. Hot wet tears spill from her eyes and run over her hand onto her chin. She hunches over on the couch, her free hand braced against pillows.

It hurts. It hurts _so_ much.

The reality that he doesn't care. Or at least he doesn't care enough to reassure her that they are still friends. It's that most of all that is making her chest heave. Not the distance, not the anger, but his lack of response when she practically _begged_ him not to leave her again. She feels embarrassed at how pathetic she must have looked but it's crazy how desperate he makes her feel.

He _knows_ how much it hurt her when he stopped talking to her after his Games. She does her best to understand why he did it, but he still _knows_ it broke her in a way that she can never mend. And here, now, he's doing it again. (And again, he doesn't even have the decency to tell her _why_ ). He _has_ to have a reason that he's not telling her.

They're supposed to be best friends, they're supposed to tell each other everything. Mari is willing to give him space, give him time. But the fact is that they are supposed to be in this together, there shouldn't be a wedge between them that she can't even try to remove because she doesn't know what it is. She hates not knowing what the problem is. Maybe if she knew she might be able to deal with this all better.

She might not be having a breakdown on her living room floor.

She's still crying, she's not sure these tears will stop any time soon.

The sobs are still coming momentarily, wracking her body every time her thoughts stray too far. She cries harder when she realises that Finnick isn't coming to comfort her, she can't call him after she's collected herself enough to and ask him to come over. She could call Annie, but Annie has enough to deal with on her own, and Mari's hysterical tears would probably set her off. Mari loves Annie, but she doesn't have the space right now to help Annie through an episode.

This feels more like a breakup than Mari would like to admit. It reminds her too much of the time she and her high-school boyfriend broke up in a fit of tears about her being 'too sad' or whatever it was. (Even that wasn't as emotional though. She cried, yes. But it didn't feel like losing a part of herself).

That's what it feels like too, like a part of her is empty now.

Maybe this is not the end of their friendship, maybe they really will talk about this when he gets back from the Capitol in a few days or a week. Maybe Mags being sick is too much for him to have this conversation now - - he always was closer to her than she was. It doesn't matter really, serious or not, the panic feels real, feels incredibly present. His dismissal of her feels like a stab to the heart, even though she could see how hard it was for him when she looked in his eyes.

A desperate kind of hysteria fills her as her mind runs itself in circles, repeating his words again and again and again. She begins to feel dizzy and lightheaded from the repetition. It feels like a nightmare she can't wake up from.

It is truly absurd how much she relies on him or even how much she relies on the thought that he is there for her. She thinks about all the times he's been there for her, held her while she cries, talked her down from a nightmare, slept in bed with her, cooked with her and all the times she's done the same with him. It hits her like a tonne of bricks when she realises that they may never do any of those things again, if he is serious, if he truly means not to be close with her.

She has always understood what it feels like to lose someone, what it feels like for someone not to be in her life anymore. But it hurts, even more, to realise that Finnick would still be there, just not for her. She wouldn't be able to bear seeing him.

She releases another sob, desperate and pathetic.

Eventually, tears still streaming down her face, she climbs the stairs to her room and tries to fall asleep in the dark. Feeling like nothing will ever be okay again.


	13. i hope you dont regret it

**IT'S BEEN A WEEK SINCE FINNICK** last left for the Capitol and Mari has cried at least once every day of this week. If she were to compare how she was feeling the night he left to how she's feeling now, it would only be marginally better. It hits her at different times, the hysteria that has settled deep in her chest. It comes spilling out at the smallest of things, even when those things seem insignificant.

Mari understands a little bit of what Annie must feel all of the time. Grappling with terrible feelings inside of you that are barely staying contained. It doesn't take much for them to spill over and it's even harder to pretend that everything is okay.

She is no stranger to loss or heartbreak; she has had her share of sorrow. But this feels different somehow, not _worse_ necessarily, but different. Probably because it's Finnick, probably because this is the second time around its happened. It feels like a betrayal of all those times they said they needed each other, that he would never leave her again, that they need to tell each other everything. Did that mean nothing to him all this time? If it didn't, then what changed? What is he hiding from her?

Time will heal this eventually, she knows that. But time passes slowly, and there's not much in the way of distraction. Especially when she's likely to see Finnick every other day because they live so close because their lives are so entwined.

He's home from the Capitol today, Mari saw him walk up the path to his house from her bedroom window like last time. Some part of her still hangs onto the hope that he will visit and tell her everything is okay, and everything will go back to normal. But he won't, she knows him well enough to know that he won't.

She sighs, swallowing the short sob that threatens to rise up her throat. Mari shuts the front door behind her and steps out into the cold early morning air, she pulls the sleeves of her jumper over her hands and makes her way through the Victors Village toward Mags house. She doesn't bother to knock on her way in, she just shuts the door quietly and makes her way toward Mags bedroom.

Mags is awake, propped up against the pillows, and murmuring.

"Hi Mags", Mari greets her, taking a seat in the armchair by her bed, "How are you?"

She hadn't gone with Finnick to the Capitol when he'd asked, which was to be expected. Mags likes to avoid the Capitol when she can, and even when she can't. As a result, her health has been declining, Finnick was probably right about it being best that she goes as soon as possible. But it's impossible to tell Mags to do something she doesn't want to do, Finnick doesn't have the heart to make her either.

Mags mumbles something that sounds like a hello.

Her eyes flutter shut for a moment of rest.

She looks tired and pale. Not much worse than the other days Mari has seen her, but she hasn't been in a good state for a few weeks now. The flu, cold, infection (whatever it was, the doctors didn't seem able to tell them) has hit her harder than anticipated. She's been sick before but never like this. Never for this long.

Mari places a hand gently on hers.

She leaves the room to fetch the older woman's breakfast, she helps her eat as much as she can, and tries not to stifle her, tries to let Mags feel like she still has independence.

A few minutes later Mari can hear Annie coming down the stairs from her temporary bed on the second floor. Her footsteps travel down the hall and toward the room where Mags has been sleeping.

"Morning", Annie says from the door, "Thanks for coming over."

"It's okay", Mari turns around in her seat, "You can't do all the work."

Annie shrugs, moving over to the other side of the bed, "I don't mind."

Mags has her eyes shut again.

"There's a doctor coming soon", Mari says to Annie, but also so Mags can hear if she is still awake, "Half an hour maybe."

Annie nods, she motions toward the direction of the kitchen, "I'm making hot cocoa. Want one?"

"Sure", Mari gets up from her seat, leaving the leftover food for Mags on the bedside table along with a full glass of water.

She leans up against the kitchen counter and watches while Annie goes about making their hot cocoa, "How is she?", Mari asks.

Annie peers back at her then turns back to the milk heating on the stovetop, "She's getting worse. She can barely walk around on her own anymore. I hope the doctor can give her something because whatever she's taking isn't working."

Mari's eyebrows furrow, "Hopefully."

In response to the worry that Mari feels, she reassures herself that they will take Mags to the Capitol if need be if it gets that bad. Mari hopes for her sake that it doesn't.

Just as Annie is mixing the hot milk with chocolate powder, there's a knock at the door. The doctor they're waiting for stands on the other side as Mari opens it, freshly stirred cocoa in her hand.

"Morning", Mari greets her, mustering a smile, "Come on in."

The doctor steps in through the door with a pleasant smile. Mari imagines that it's strange to visit the house of a victor, never mind encountering several victors at once. But the doctor doesn't show any signs of discomfort, even when her eyes pass over a now distant looking Annie.

"How has she been?", the doctor asks.

"Annie says she's been getting worse", Mari replies, crossing her arms over one another, "We have to help her out with most things. Eating, bathing, moving. Also, she's been coughing a lot recently."

Annie nods her head to confirm.

The doctor nods slowly, "Can I see her?"

"Of course,", Mari says, leading the doctor down the hall to the room, "Follow me."

Mags lays half-asleep on the bed in the same position Mari had left her. She lets the doctor through the door, tells her to fetch them in the kitchen if she needs anything, and shuts the door behind her. Mari has found that it's easier not to watch the doctor in action, it easier to pretend Mags will be okay if she doesn't watch the doctor poke and prod Mags with various medical instruments.

She and Annie sit across from each other at the kitchen table, sipping from their mug. It fills Mari's chest with a comforting warmth and Mari forgets about her problems for just a moment as she swallows the hot drink. The doctor comes out of Mags room about fifteen minutes later, shutting the door quietly behind her.

The doctor approaches them at the table, looking nervous, "Well, she's not got a fever, which is a good sign so far. The bad news is that her lungs aren't sounding too good," the doctor reaches into their bag and pulls out a bottle of rattling pills that she passes on to Mari, "She'll need to take these twice daily. Come by my office or call me if she gets worse, or if the coughing doesn't stop after a week."

Mari nods, taking the pills from the doctor, setting them on the counter, "Thank you for coming out here. Send me the bill and I'll get the money to you as soon as I can. We appreciate it."

The doctor smiles a strained smile, "I'm happy to help."

She lets the woman out of the front door and then comes back to sit with Annie. Mari leans her elbows against the table and her head in her hands, she lets out a sigh.

"Do you think she'll be okay?", Annie asks, chewing at her lip.

Mari lets out another breath, "I don't know. I hope so."

There's not much more than that. Mari doesn't want to think about Mags not being here anymore. She's not sure what they'd all do without her. But she doesn't want to act like it's not a possibility, Mags has had a stroke after all, she's not exactly in the best of health. It worries her, but she decides it's not a problem that needs her attention right now. They have medicine, they have the Capitol.

Mags is going to be fine.

Mari twists her mouth contemplatively, she looks blankly down at the worn wooden legs of one of the chairs, "How are you Annie?", she looks up at the girl halfway through her sentence.

A small frown forms on Annie's mouth, her fingers worry away at the handle of her now empty mug, "Oh, you know", her eyebrows furrow, "It's easier staying with Mags... well, honestly it's just easier staying with someone else."

"Yeah", Mari nods in agreement. Annie's confession makes her heart ache; she thinks about how she may never have that companionship from Finnick again. She loses herself in the thought for longer than she would like to, lets it consume her.

Annie can tell something is bothering her because she asks, "What's wrong?"

Mari shakes her head for a second, not wanting to talk about it until she realises that she's not got anyone else to tell, and what is Annie going to do but help. She sighs, "Finnick and I fought before he left for the Capitol. He's been distant and weird with me for like weeks now, and I kind of snapped at him about it. He made it seem like he didn't want to be in my life anymore... I'm not sure what to do."

"Oh Mari", Annie places a hand on hers, "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugs, "I didn't want to bother you and I figured we would sort it out. I'm sorry."

"It's fine", Annie says reassuringly, "How are you feeling?"

Mari turns her hand in its position to grab Annie's, "Hurt, I guess. I just wish he would tell me what's wrong because I _know_ something is. Only he won't tell me for whatever reason. I don't know what to do, he's supposed to be my best friend. I don't know how to live without him."

Annie frowns, "He's back today, you should try talking to him. He cares about you so much Mari, if he knows how hurt you are I'm sure he won't keep doing this."

Mari furrows her eyebrows, "It feels like he doesn't want anything to do with me, Annie. Seriously. I think he's fed up with dealing with me, he has his own issues to deal with."

Annie shakes her head and squeezes Mari's hand, "Mari, that's what we do for each other. He would never give up on you like that. There has to be a reason why. Please talk to him for me, even if not today, eventually. I promise you that he doesn't want nothing to do with you. You guys are best friends."

Mari bites her lip and stares down at their hands. What Annie says makes sense, it fits in better than her working theory that Finnick all of a sudden hates her. But her hysterical and overwhelmed brain is reluctant to accept her entirely logical conclusion. Talking to him would be the best course of action. Despite, how much she doesn't want to do so.

"Okay", Mari agrees, "I'll go talk to him. Soon."

"Good", Annie smiles slightly.

She lets go of their hands. Mari pushes the pill bottle slightly toward Annie.

"Make sure Mags takes these", she gets up from her chair, "Call me if you need anything, and I'll be back tomorrow."

Annie nods, "Take care of yourself."

"I will", Mari tries a smile.

"Mari", Annie says just as Mari turns to leave, "You and Finnick can make it through anything okay. I've never seen two people that care about each other as much as you two do. You're going to be okay."

"Thank you", Mari says, though she struggles to believe it.

On her way back home, she lingers too long outside Finnick's house. She's two doors down, in front of the Murray's home, she can hear the kids running around and screaming inside. She almost wills herself to walk the rest of the way to Finnick's door and knock, but she just can't. Instead, she turns, goes home, and tries not to think about her promise to Annie.

She can only bear it for less than an hour. She moves from her couch to her kitchen to the living room table to the back garden, the whole while her leg bouncing up and down and her hands shaking. She could just go over there now and get it all done with, figure out what Finnick means, if Annie is right or if Mari's worst nightmare has come true. That's what stops her, the fact that he might want nothing to do with her.

She paces back and forth across the living room until she starts to get dizzy. Mari decides to just go over, despite the possible outcome, before anything escalates. Before she goes crazy from the waiting. She'll have to talk to him eventually anyway, she'd promised Annie after all.

Not long after, at Finnick's front door, she knocks once. He doesn't answer after what Mari deems as a reasonable amount of time, so she clenches her fists and just opens the door herself. He's probably in the back garden or upstairs or whatever, and besides, it wouldn't be weird if everything were okay, they do this all the time.

He's not on the bottom floor when Mari checks, not in the back yard either. So, she slowly climbs the stairs, hoping he's home. She checks the rooms, knocking on the closed doors and peeking into the others. She turns to the bedroom when he's not in any of the others.

The door is slightly ajar, and she nudges it open. But she doesn't hear the shower running until she's already inside the room. Her heart skips a beat and she curses herself for coming in in the first place. She's about to leave and come back another time when she spots a letter discarded on his bed, next to an empty suitcase.

On the top of the letter, she sees the symbol for the Capitol, glinting in gold. Usually, she wouldn't invade his privacy like this, but she can't help herself when she realises it's a Capitol letter. She's already got it in her hands by the time she realises that she might regret looking at it.

It's confusing at first, saying things about obligation and reputation and concern. It doesn't make any sense to Mari until she realises whose name is at the bottom, President Snow. She skims back over it and realises that it's about _them_ , it's about her and Finnick. It's about Finnick's obligations and how Snow is concerned that Mari will get in the way of him fulfilling those obligations. There's a vague threat in there somewhere. She glances at the top of the letter and realises that it is dated from a few months ago. A chill runs down Mari's spine.

In the bathroom, the shower turns off.

Mari drops the letter like it's suddenly burning hot and she slips from the room, down the stairs, and out the front door as quickly and quietly as she can. Her heart is beating a million miles a minute and feels like it's going to come straight up out of her throat.

She rushes back into her house.

For a split second, she had contemplated waiting and confronting him, because _surely_ this is why he's been distant. She can't entirely blame him either, because she'd been threatened by Snow as well and never told him. _But_ she had no plans to stop being his friend because of it. It's a shock to realise that this is likely all it is, he's not angry at her, he doesn't want to stop being her friend, he isn't sick of her problems.

It's just Finnick and his bordering on _insane_ methods of protecting her.

Their problems are far from resolved, she still needs to actually talk to him, tell him she knows and figure out what to do from there. But at least she can breathe now.

At least she's through the worst.


	14. we didn't know we had it all

**IT WAS FOOLISH OF MARI TO TO ASSUME** that everything would be okay, to assume that she was through the worst.

Because she isn't, _they_ aren't.

All of Mari's problems are conceivable, laid out neatly in front of her. And she is more than aware of every single aspect of them, it's just harder said than done when it comes to solving those problems. They're proving more stubborn than expected.

She hasn't talked to Finnick yet, not since he almost discovered her sneaking around in his room. She's still not sure if he knows she was there, she suspects he heard her bounding down the stairs, but there's no way to know if he noticed that the letter was disturbed. They've seen each other of course, in passing, usually at Mags house as they check in on her.

Finnick has tried to speak to her, tried to pry more than a curt hello from her, but Mari just feels her veins turn to ice whenever he does. At first, the letter felt like relief, it meant that she finally knew why he'd been distant. It still hurt of course, but at least there was an explanation she could cling to. But days passed and Mari started to wonder why Finnick had not told her of the letter? Why had he started to distance himself without even saying a thing?

Relief turned slowly into anger.

There is a lot that she would like to say to him. Or a lot she would like to scream at him until he understands. But she won't, not now at least. There is too much going on now for her to fill it with her personal grievances. Things bigger than her problems, though her problems feel like the worst thing in the world right now.

Mainly, Mags is getting worse.

No matter how mad she is at Finnick, she will not make this harder for him.

She had been okay for a few days after the visit from the doctor and the pills seemed to be helping, her was cough getting better. But then one day last week Mags' health had dropped off completely, her fever returned, and she wheezed with nearly every breath. Exploding into coughing fits that lasted for far longer than they should have, especially considering the pills that she'd been taking.

Finnick and Annie had to rush Mags to the home of a healer in the dead of night to supply her with enough fluids and herbal concoctions to help her last the night. She'd been transferred to the emergency ward in the small District hospital in the early morning, only barely getting a bed because of her status as a Victor.

She's been there since, tangled in tubes with a breathing assist instrument from the Capitol strapped to her face. It hurts deeply to see her there, pale and weak. Mags, despite the lasting effects of her stroke, used to look full of life. She was aging, of course. She is scattered with wrinkles and scars and her bones feel frail to the touch and sometimes Mari fears she is getting too old to take care of herself, but she never anticipated this. Mags hasn't gotten sick since Mari has known her, even the stroke was before they'd met. It's strange to see Mags so not herself.

Every doctor that they talk to tells them they must wait. That Mags will only make it through this if she is strong enough. (Annie had yelled at one of them, demanded to know why it was up to Mags to keep herself alive, why they couldn't do their jobs and keep her alive regardless). They are all stretched thin, after all, they are just three young adults faced with the possible death of their only remaining parental figure.

They have missed their chance to take her to the Capitol. Now that Mags is under the care of District Four, they are unable to transfer her without an invitation. Mari does not underestimate Finnick's ability to pull strings, but she worries that even _he_ will not be able to secure Mags an invitation now. She is too old, too irrelevant for the Capitol to agree to heal her, maybe before when it was a simple cough and a slight fever. But not now that it has become life-threatening.

Mari is trying not to consider the possibility that Mags will die.

She clings to the hope that Mags will be strong enough.

Mari sighs deeply and tears her gaze away from Mags' frail body. A nurse comes in to tell them visiting hours are over just as Mari stands from the chair. On the other side of the room, Finnick wearily runs a hand through his hair and stands as well.

Mari walks a few steps ahead of Finnick as they make their way out of the medical facility. It's remarkably small compared to the one at the Capitol, which is only to be expected of course, but it still makes her angry that they only get _this_. (Though, there are Districts that don't even get _this_ ).

Finnick makes no attempt to catch up with her.

Mari exits through the waiting room, which is completely filled, and out onto the stone path that leads back toward the town centre. Minutes later she hears Finnick's footsteps against the same stone, she doesn't expect them to grow closer and she isn't surprised when they don't. They hadn't even talked when they showed up to see Mags at the same time, she doesn't expect them to talk now.

She turns down the sandy path that leads to the east docks and feels relief when Finnick isn't trailing behind her anymore. She turns her head back to look and sees him walking the rest of the way down the stone path into town.

The east docks are a few minutes' walk down the winding sandy path, she comes out right at the end and has to make her way to the other end until she reaches the spot where Kai Dover's boat is docked. Sure enough, Kai's crowning glory is anchored to the pier, with Kai himself perched on it next to a great big net full of still wriggling fish.

Kai is the son of a fish merchant named Fred that Mari used to know when she was young. He died years ago during a particularly heavy storm out at sea and left his boat and trade behind to his young son. Now, the same age as Mari, Kai does his best to continue hauling in fish, leaving the selling to his mother and sister at the markets.

Ever since the cold weather had started to set in and she and Finnick had grown distant, Mari had been offering her help to the Dovers. She needed something to occupy her time and Kai needed someone to help him gut fish. It's not so bad either, she and Kai remember each other from school, and Mari has a knack for precision. So once or twice a week she finds Kai down at the docks and helps him gut the fish he has caught with his crew.

Mari climbs onto the boat, it rocks slightly with the pull she gives it but stabilises again quickly, "Hey", she says.

Kai slides the gutted and descaled fish he's just finished with into the waiting bucket, he gives her a nod, his dark curls bouncing, "Hey Mari."

Mari takes a seat by him, pulls on a pair of gloves, and grabs a knife from a bag.

She gets to work.

She pulls a fish from the net, rubs the sharp edge of the knife up and down against the fish to remove the scales, and then draws a line from one end of the fish to the other, letting its guts spill into the bucket next to her. It's dirty work, but for some reason, it soothes Mari. Perhaps because her father was a surgeon, perhaps because she is used to handling knives, used to cutting things open. She slides the readied fish into the bucket on her other side.

Kai chats with her a little as they work. It's nice of course, but it still feels like he's tiptoeing around her. It's as if he's trying not to step on glass. This is how it always is with regular people, conversations feel stilted like they're trying _so hard_ not to ask about the Games, the Capitol, Finnick. She forgets how exhausting it is sometimes.

Her hands are steady as she cuts into each fish, the knife slicing from head to tail. Carving a gaping wound in its fleshy body. Her hands don't shake as she holds the fish over the bucket and lets its viscera spill out, guts and gills and all, splattering against the contents of the bucket. She should find this disgusting, most people do, even here where fishing is the life source of the District.

But she doesn't.

She watches her hands do it over and over, knowing exactly which way to use her knife. It reminds her of the way her father's hands did not shake. His steady surgeon hands that cut into bodies and fixed the parts that were broken. Mari has his hands.

She has his surgeon hands that can only cut open and try to mend. His surgeon hands that can do nothing for a sickness that only affects parts they can't touch. His hands that can do nothing for Mags as she lays there weakened by a mere cough and fever that they can't seem to fix, that she has to find a way through for herself.

Mari harrows at the thought, because what if Mags doesn't. What if she isn't strong enough, or what if she has just had enough. Victors are no stranger to death, Mari has heard too many stories of self-sabotage, suicide and simply giving up on life. She would not blame Mags; she cannot blame Mags either way.

She just feels despair that she can't do anything to help her.

Besides, even if Mags were sick with something that a surgeon could fix, Mari wouldn't be able to do anything. Wade Fischer only ever taught her to sew stitches in flesh, nothing more. Mari knows how to destroy more than she knows how to heal.

She grows increasingly anxious as she repeats the process of descaling and gutting the fish. It must show on her shoulders because sometime about two hours later, Kai tells her that she should get home and he can finish up himself.

The net is significantly emptier than it was, so Mari concedes.

She says goodbye and climbs off the boat.

On her way down the pier, she watches a man place a pebble into another man's hand. Mari has little doubt that there is a black Mockingjay painted on its surface. The man hands it over with a kind of casualness that Mari thinks is smart. Trying to hide what they're doing will only make them more of a target and presumably the peacekeepers know nothing of these pebbles yet. She averts her eyes as she passes them, she is not ready to be involved in a rebellion yet.

Not when Snow is still at her throat.

Mari winds her way back through the docks, past the markets, past the train station, and the Justice Building. She notices that there are fewer peacekeepers on the streets and most only have batons now instead of the large gun-like weapons they had just the other week. Mari takes this as a good sign. Rebellion is obviously still out in force, especially considering the men she saw at the docks, but it is reassuring to know that whoever controls their peacekeeper force doesn't think so. Even if only a little.

She feels lightheaded with anxiety as she approaches home. Partly because of the prospect of rebellion, partly because of Mags, but mostly because of Finnick

She is getting sick of being sad.

She is getting sick of being around him and feeling miserable because she can't say any of what she has bottled up inside of her. It's beyond frustrating to see everything that he is going through and not be able to extend to him her comfort like she is so used to doing. Plain and simple, she misses him. She has missed him this whole time, sure. But it's different, knowing part of the reason why he is acting like this and with Mags in a hospital bed clinging to life.

She decides she has to end this.

She has to speak to him and pour out everything that she has been holding in until it is all there in the open. Whatever his response, she has to do it. It is the only way they will be able to go back to any semblance of normal. And if he doesn't want to go back to normal then so be it, Mari will have to deal with that.

But at least she will be able to.

Whatever happens, happens. But she will not stand idle any longer as Mags dies and any relationship she ever had with Finnick wastes away with it.

She will get her best friend back, or she will not.

That is up to him now.


	15. somewhere beyond the sea

**MARI IS WOKEN BY THE SHRILL** ring of her phone in the kitchen.

The sky outside is light grey from the rising sun. She pulls the blankets off her body, blinking her eyes groggily. The phone rings out as she's about to slide from the bed, and she's about to get right back under the covers before it rings again. There's an urgency to it and while coming out of her morning haze the reminder that Mags is in hospital rushes to her all at once.

She bounds down the stairs, rushing into the kitchen to grab the phone before it rings out another time, "Hello", she says breathlessly.

"Is this Marina Fischer?", the voice asks.

There's a distinctive District Four twang to the voice, which squashes any notion that it may be someone from the Capitol calling.

"This is Marina", she replies, a frown forming on her face.

There's a knock at the front door, two loud taps against the wood.

"I'm calling from the hospital", the voice says, and Mari's blood runs cold, "Would you be able to come in today? We have something we need to discuss."

The knock at the front door comes again, louder this time.

Mari breathes in through her nose, "Sure", she says, even though she is starting to feel numb and already suspects what the news will be, "I'll be there soon."

The voice says something else, but Mari puts the phone back on the receiver before she can hear anything more. She runs a hand through her hair and treads toward the front door, there's the jiggle of the doorknob and a third round of knocking just before she swings it open.

It's Finnick is on the other side. His eyes are bloodshot, wet with tears that have not been shed yet. Something sinks in her stomach and there's a voice that nags at the back of her head telling her to assume the very worst.

"Mags is dead", Finnick says.

Her stomach seems to plummet further.

All pretences of ignoring him or being angry or holding a grudge or whatever it was that she was intending to do yesterday, are thrown out the window when she watches the sorrow rest on his shoulders. She lurches forward and hugs him. Ignoring everything else for a moment and taking in his warmth. Momentarily forgetting the last few weeks, the last few months. Even if for a brief moment, he has come back to her again.

"How do you know?", Mari asks into his chest.

"I just do", he says, winding his arms around her back, "The hospital called me."

"They called me too", Mari replies, "We should get Annie and go."

After all, they don't know for sure. No matter how certain Finnick seems, they do not know for sure.

When they get to her home, Annie is in no state to come with them. She is crying and shaking in her bed and she screams something bloodcurdling when Mari gets too close. Mari tells her that they will be back. Sadly, there is nothing they can do if Annie doesn't want them to help her.

After leaving they set off toward the hospital. They're not far down the path to town when Finnick starts to run. Mari takes off after him.

The not knowing is unbearable.

That's all Mari can think as she runs behind Finnick, dressed only in a long t-shirt and shorts. Bare feet hitting the dirt ground beneath her. Finnick has at least had the sense to put shoes on, but he looks tired. Though he has not looked like the Golden Boy that the Capitol is so familiar with in a long while.

They reach the hospital quickly; Mari is out of breath from running but doesn't stop to catch it. If she were thinking rationally, she would have grabbed Finnick's arm and forced him to slow down, forced him to walk in like a normal person and wait. But Mari is not thinking rationally, and Mari does not want to wait.

Finnick darts around nurses in the corridors and brushes off an orderly who tries to stop him. Mari tries to dodge his messes, brushes off the same orderlies and follows Finnick right to the room where Mags should be.

He does not need to tell her that Mags is not in the hospital bed, not even when she is all the way at the other end of the corridor, a nurses' hand on her arm. She can tell from the way Finnick sets his head in his hands, even just the way he is standing. She can read it all over him.

Mari looks back at the nurse, "What happened?", she asks, her voice breaking.

The nurse shakes her head in confusion and tries to say something, but Mari can tell she knows nothing of Mags. Mari tugs her arm from the woman's grip and stumbles the rest of the way up the hallway, head foggy with oncoming grief.

"Finnick", Mari says, grabbing on his bicep, "We don't know. We don't know she's gone. They could have moved her to another room. She could be fine."

He lifts his head from his hands and looks at her, eyes wide and looking more his age than he has in a long time, "Don't", he whispers, head shaking imperceptibly, "Don't."

Mari sighs, the space between her nose and upper lip twinges with sadness. She looks helplessly around the corridor, mouth open, threatening to twist into a cry. A nurse, not the one from before, but one Mari recognises, approaches them almost as if they are animals that have escaped from their cages. Mari supposes she would look normal to any other person, but Mari can see the miniscule ways that the woman is surveying them. Set back a little on her heels, one arm out in front of her in case they do something unpredictable, slightly turned ready to run the opposite direction.

Mari steps toward the woman suddenly, almost just to test out her reaction. The woman stumbles backwards. Mari holds her hands up, trying to apologise without saying anything, "Where is she?"

The woman takes a breath and seems to straighten up, "Mags?"

"Yes", Mari says firmly, "Mags. Where is she?"

"We didn't want to tell you like this", the woman says.

"Tell us what?", Finnick demands.

The woman falters, her mouth hanging open for a second longer than it should, she clasps her hands together, "Mags died of respiratory failure early this morning. She's been moved to the morgue already."

Hearing this woman confirm Mari's suspicions hurts so much more than she thought it would. Mari has heard the news of her loved one's deaths far more times than she would like to, but she forgets how painful it is every time. How it tears open old wounds and makes more fresh ones. The dread starts to set in, starting at the back of her neck and all the way down to her toes. It is slow and seeps down her like she has dived into freezing cold water on a Winter's day.

"Respiratory failure?", Mari says at the same time Finnick quietly says, "Morgue?"

"How did she die of respiratory failure?", Mari steps forward again, outrage and a little bit of hysteria seeping into her tone, "She was on a ventilator. That makes no sense."

The woman frowns, "She took it out herself."

"She took it out herself", Mari repeats, eyes wide with the horror she feels.

The woman nods.

"Can we see her?", Finnick asks, voice quiet.

He steps up next to Mari and grabs her hand.

"You can", the woman says, "Would you like to go now?"

"Yes", Finnick replies.

Mari squeezes Finnick's hand tighter. They follow the woman down the hallway and down two sets of stairs. But once they're at the doors to the mortuary Mari finds that she can't make herself go any further. She lets Finnick's hand fall from hers and she steps back, motioning for Finnick and the nurse to go ahead of her.

"I can't go in", Mari shakes her head, "You go."

It's all too familiar. She's been here too many times. For her mother's death and for her father's. The hallway smells like death, like the sharp smell of bleach and cleaning supplies, like cold. The lights are too bright and the one that flickers hasn't been fixed since the last time she was here. The door shuts behind Finnick and the woman.

Mari cannot go in there. She can't go in there and see her father's- _Mags_ body.

Cold and pale, pulled out on a metal tray and covered in a white sheet. So aware of the blood pumping in your own veins. The _thump, thump, thump_ in your ears as you are so so alive and the person you are looking at is so so dead. Mari has seen enough death, caused enough death, for several lifetimes over.

She will spare herself from seeing another.

Finnick comes out only ten minutes later, the nurse doesn't follow him. Mari has herself backed into the corner, right near the stairwell. Finnick eyes are red again.

He swallows a lump in his throat and puts a hand on Mari's arm.

"Do you want to leave?", he asks.

Mari nods.

It feels like a different day when they come out of the hospital, the sun is a bright orange in the sky ahead of them as they walk the path back into town. Mari welcomes the silence that comes with the walk back to the Victor's Village, though she uses it worry about what the aftermath of this will be like.

They stop outside Mari's house.

She suddenly feels naked in her t-shirt and sleep shorts that have holes in them. The cold air bites at her bare legs. She feels as exhausted as she must look, and she imagines that Finnick feels the same.

"Do you want to come in?", Mari asks.

Finnick bites his lip, he glances at his house all the way at the other end and then back to her, he nods, "Yeah. I do."

Mari opens the unlocked door and lets him inside.

She feels like she should hurry upstairs and get changed, she feels as if he is a guest in her house. It never used to feel like that. So instead, she just lets him go into the living room and sit on her couch as he has so many times before. She sits next to him as she has so many times before.

Without thinking, she reaches out and grabs his hands. Moving them so that they're resting in hers.

"Finn", she says, testing out how the nickname feels in her mouth after not being used for so many weeks; None of this is how she wanted it to happen but she finds she has no choice now, "I found the letter Snow sent you. About us. I know I shouldn't have read it, but I did, and I'm sorry... Is that why you've been like this for the past few months?"

He swallows, looking down at their hands, he squeezes Mari's ring finger and lets out a long breath through his nose, "Yes."

Mari's tongue worries at one of her teeth, she releases a shuddering breath that she didn't anticipate and nods slowly, she opens her mouth to reply.

"I-", Finnick starts, breaking the silence, "I'm sorry", he lifts his eyes to look at her, and there is regret glistening in them, "You don't have to forgive me. But I was so scared he'd hurt you. I didn't know what to do other than stop talking to you again."

Mari tilts her head slowly to the side, her eyebrows knitting together, "Oh, Finn. You could have told me", she lets one of his hands slide from hers and she reaches up to place her fingers just on his jaw, "He threatened me too."

"He did?"

Mari nods, "At the party. He came over and said he'd kill me if I distracted you from your obligations. I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to do this."

Finnick breathes, "But I did anyway."

Mari bites her lip.

"Mari", he says, dropping his head into her hand, "I'm so sorry. I thought that was the only way to protect you. I figured you could hate me as long as it meant you were fine."

Mari blinks slowly, willing the tears that are welling up in her eyes to disappear, "I could never hate you, Finnick. I just thought you were sick of me", she pauses, supressing the sob in the back of her throat, letting her hand drop from his cheek, "I didn't think you'd do that again."

His face twists in shame, he looks back down at his other hand in her lap, "I'm so sorry, Mari. I'll tell you next time. I should have told you this time, I- I was just so petrified that he would hurt you."

It's something to do with the fact that neither of them really knows where that line is drawn, the line that Snow doesn't like being crossed. That has never existed for them, the line that separates friends and something more. So Mari can accept that Finnick didn't trust himself not to cross it. Regardless, Mari does not want to hold a grudge. She needs Finnick now more than ever.

"Don't do it again", Mari pleads, sounding desperate, "Tell me next time anything like this happens. We can deal with it together. You- you have no idea how difficult it is when I think that you can't stand the sight of me."

Finnick frowns, he shakes his head again, "I'm sorry Mari. I wish I hadn't done it."

She lurches forward into his arms, letting him engulf her with his arms. He buries his face into the crook of her neck as she's pressed up against his chest.

"It's fine", Mari says sincerely, "It's not important right now. We should go tell Annie."

Finnick sighs, his breath comes out hot onto her shoulder, "Do you think she'll be okay? If we tell her."

"I think she already knows", Mari says, one of her fingers rubs circles on his back, it feels so nice to be in his arms again, despite the circumstances, "She can't get any worse. She'd want to know anyway."

Finnick nods, "We'll go soon."

They stay the way they are for a little while longer. Finnick starts to cry soundlessly, hot wet tears creating a patch on her white shirt. She lets him.

There are things that Mari will have to heal from, things she will still need to talk to him about. She will still be upset about what he has done, but she sees no use in causing strife because of it. All she has wanted this whole time is for him to come back to her and he finally has. The hesitation and the anxiety and everything else that comes with it will fade in time.

Eventually, he pulls away from her and they head to Annie's for the second time that day. She takes Mags' death about the same as she took their arrival earlier, but she takes the fact that Mags removed the ventilator herself even worse. Though, after they have talked her down, she lets Mari hold her as she cries.

"I know", Mari says, voice thick with the tears she has shed for Mags and for the shock at seeing Annie like this again, "I know. I miss her too."

She lets Annie rock herself back and forth in her arms, lets her cry until all her tears are gone. She and Finnick are there for hours helping and listening as Annie reorients herself and eventually comes back to reality. When the sun is at its peak in the sky Annie pries Mari's arms off her and asks to be alone.

Mari promises to bring around some dinner and they leave her in her room.

"I'll tell Sam and Marlin", Finnick says when they're on the steps of Annie's house, referring to the other two District Four victors, "I'll pick up some clothes from my house too", he trails off, and Mari can tell he worries he is assuming too much too quickly, "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Of course,", Mari nods, "I think we could both use the company. Besides, if we're back to normal you don't even need to ask."

Finnick nods, a small smile at the hint of his lips.

She lets him leave to tell the others and sets off toward her house. Once Mari is back in her kitchen she sits down at the counter and lets the whirlwind of emotions she has felt today wash over her. The relief, the harrowing sadness, the grief, the happiness, the guilt. She lets Mags' death settle, lets it really sink in.

It's not as if she hasn't been anticipating it.

It's been a possibility at the back of her mind ever since Mags first got sick. Not one she wanted to consider for long, but one that they had to consider. This has been coming for a while. There is a written will stuffed somewhere into a drawer in Mags' study, detailing the distribution of her assets. Though all it really means is that she, Finnick and Annie will split Mags' things between them and then the house will be emptied by peacekeepers. Left to stand empty until another Victor fills it.

Finnick comes in through the door and sits across from her. He reaches out and grabs her hand, "We'll deal with the rest tomorrow."

Meaning they will go and notify the head peacekeeper of her death and then they will start to arrange her funeral.

Mari nods.

They spend the rest of the day grieving in their own ways.

Mari starts on a seafood pasta where she makes the pasta from scratch, and Finnick just _talks_. She stands at the counter, kneading dough, rolling it out, kneading it again. Finnick watches and helps filet fish and cut vegetables. And he lets stories about Mags and their time together spill from his mouth.

He apologises too. Eyes wide and pleading, saying the word sorry too many times. More times than Mari will let him. She stops letting him around number five. Putting a flour dusted hand on his, sighing and telling him that she could never live without him and he has no reason to apologise because she forgave him the moment she realised that he was just trying to protect her.

Finnick shakes his head and looks at her in a way that Mari can only describe as him thinking she holds the sun in her hands. He apologises again.

They eat the pasta she has made when it's ready at five thirty. Mari takes a large container over to Annie's and leaves it at her doorstep when she doesn't answer the door. She comes back and Finnick has done almost all of the dishes for her.

"Finn", she says, nudging him away from the sink, forcing him to face her, "You don't have to do any of this for me. You came back to me and I don't need anything more than that. Okay."

She urges for him to understand. He swipes a finger across his lip and nods slowly.

"I just feel bad, Mari", he says, frowning.

"I know", she replies, "It's going to take time for us to move on from this. Considering everything else too. But you don't have to grovel for my forgiveness. It's on the both of us, and we need to be here for each other right now more than ever."

He nods, brushing a hand through his hair, "You're right. It's been a difficult day."

Mari agrees and they finish the dishes together. Once the sun has gone down and the kitchen is clean, they go up to Mari's room. Mari switches on the music player in the corner of her room and puts on something that reminds her of Mags. She turns it down low and sits up against the cushions on one end of her bed. Finnick sprawls out on the other end.

The lights are off and her curtains are wide open, the moonlight and the few candles she has lit are the only source of light in the room. Finnick looks sad and tired in the dim lighting, his hair is dishevelled and he's wearing the same shirt from this morning. The lack of sleep carves deep dark half-moons into the space under his eyes. He picks at a thread on her quilt and all Mari can think about is how beautiful he is.

"It sucks", Mari says instead of telling Finnick that he's looking remarkably pretty tonight, her voice cracks a little as she remembers the events of the morning, "Death sucks. Especially when it happens to your family."

They know this better than anyone.

Mari scrunches her nose as tears well in her eyes, she starts to cry a second later. Only a few short sobs, like she just needs to get rid of what is threatening to spill over and then she can manage the flood that will spill another day. She stops.

Finnick scoots up, stopping just in front of her. Still leaning on his elbow, legs laying out to the side, "You can cry", he says.

"I don't want to", she whispers, "Not now."

Finnick nods, he has barely cried either, there is plenty of time for them to shed tears later.

Something heady and slow starts to play on the music player and Mari feels all her emotions bloom right in her cheeks. Her eyes go soft at the corners and she finds it suddenly very hard to look away from Finnick's face. She traces the line of his jaw all the way down to his neck with her eyes, mouth parted slightly, and she can feel her eyes wide and dewy with whatever it is she's feeling. His tongue darts out of his mouth to lick at his lip and she sees his green eyes flit to her mouth.

He leans forward slowly until their foreheads are touching, the music fades into the background as Mari's heartbeat grows louder in her ears. She can feel his breath hot on her face and she thinks it would be unpleasant in any other situation, but this is _Finnick_ and all she can feel are the butterflies that are erupting in her stomach.

"I'm sorry", he whispers again.

"Don't", she whispers back.

She can nearly taste the words on his tongue.

Just inches closer.

Then the track changes, and a loud swell in the music causes Mari to pull back with a start. Her heart is beating rapidly in her chest. Finnick draws back too.

" _Uhm_ ", Mari says, voice shaky, "We should probably go to sleep now."

Finnick nods, a far off look in his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. We should."

Mari slides from the bed, blows out the candles and switches off the music player. Finnick has already settled under the covers once she slides back in. He lets her settle into his arms, and they try their best to drift off together.

Though Mari can feel his heart beating against her back just as hard as hers is.


	16. you could see the wicked truth

**MARI PULLS THE QUILT TIGHTER AROUND HER** , trying to shield herself from the cold. The winter air seeps in even through the closed windows and insulated walls. On the other side of the bed, Finnick snatches sleepily at the disappearing quilt. He groans and Mari apologises softly, scooting back over to return some of the blanket to him.

"It's cold", he mutters, turning around to bury his face in the pillow, "Don't steal."

"It's _my_ blanket", Mari retorts, leaning onto her elbows under the covers.

Finnick mocks her voice into the pillow and then turns back so his head is sideways on the pillow. He shuts his eyes and is asleep again in only a few seconds. Mari rolls her eyes with a short laugh. She sits up and lets the quilt fall off of her. She slides from the bed and runs a quick shower to wake up.

Winter has well and truly set in in District Four.

Despite the fireplace down in the living room, there is no central heating like in the Capitol. Mari dries off quickly from the shower and slips into a thick knitted jumper and grey sweatpants. She forces on woolly socks and treads downstairs, leaving Finnick sleeping in her bed.

It's been two months since Mags' died and about the same time since her funeral. It has also been a slow and difficult process to heal. Especially for Annie, who has been worse than usual and often refuses their help. Mags' absence has taken a toll on her in a way that's different from how it has affected Mari and Finnick. But Mari chalks that up to Annie's three surviving family members and Annie's already rocky mental state. Mari only wishes there was a way for them to help Annie.

Annie often falls by the wayside in between Finnick's more frequent visits to the Capitol and their more frequent breakdowns and nightmares in the wake of Mags' death. Mari finds it increasingly difficult to care for herself, never mind helping Finnick and Annie. Though it's certainly easier to help Finnick, especially with the amount of time he's spending here. (And of course, she feels guilty about that, thinking about Annie all alone in her house around the bend. No one to help her when she wakes up screaming in the middle of the night).

Mari is about to boil water for tea when there's a frantic knocking at the front door. Her heart skips in her chest at the noise. The door is unlocked though so she decides to answer it before whoever it is on the other side finds that out and they barge in.

She's too late though because when she's only a few steps from the door it swings open without warning and Burch, Evey and the prep team stumble in.

"Uh", Mari says, empty mug still in hand, "What are you guys doing here?"

Burch, eyes comically wide with new golden tattoos blooming about his face, claps his hands onto Mari's shoulders, "The victory tour", he says, "They're coming tomorrow."

 _Shit_ , Mari thinks, _how could they have forgotten?_ She remembers Burch calling earlier in the week to remind her and also remembers him saying they'd be here a day early to prep the two of them. Mari had made them promise not to get Annie involved. Regardless, it had been late when he called, and Mari obviously didn't keep track of everything Burch had said. Neither had Finnick obviously, they probably wouldn't have slept in the same bed if they'd remembered. Mari doubts that any of them would dare to pass their slip up onto anyone else, but she still curses herself for not being careful.

"Ah", Mari lets out as she Evey hustles toward her and takes the empty mug from her hands, running it back to the kitchen.

"Okay", Burch says, handing Mari off to Evey once she's returned from the kitchen, "I'm off to fetch Finnick. I'll be back."

Mari winces as Burch turns to go back out the door, "Don't bother."

Burch spins around, eyebrows raised, "Pardon?"

"He's upstairs", Mari replies, nose scrunched.

"Upstairs?", he hisses, Mari nods, then he shakes his head in disapproval, " _Honestly_."

Burch looks a bit outraged and he sighs, but regardless he turns and starts to bound his way up the steps.

"He's sleeping", Mari calls as an afterthought, though Finnick is likely awake by now.

Burch says something biting that Mari can't hear as Evey guides her to the sprawling downstairs bathroom that half of the prep team are already setting up in.

"What are you two up to?", Evey asks conspiratorially, leaning over her shoulder.

Mari rolls her eyes at Evey's excitement, "Nothing", she says honestly, "We get less nightmares sleeping in the same bed. That's all."

Evey hums, "Sure thing", she says in a singsong voice that makes Mari think she very much does not believe what she is saying.

Mari brushes it off, it's not worth worrying about when only Burch and Evey know.

Evey pushes her into the bathroom and sits her down on a chair the prep team has set up. There's a mirror on the wall opposite the chair and Mari takes the time she has without Olive and Ely's hands all over her to stare at herself in the reflection.

It's been months since the Capitol last got their hands on her. She looks entirely unkempt next to a preened and groomed Ely and Olive, and then Evey on her other side who doesn't have a hair out of place. Her hair is choppy and too short from being cut off by Finnick every time it gets past her shoulders and she is thin and bony from lack of sleep and the meals she's been skipping because she can't get out of bed some days. The grief from the past few months shows on her. In the heavy bags under her eyes, in the bruises that scatter her body, in the scabs on her knuckles.

She exhibits all the signs of night terrors and destructive behaviour.

Her eyebrows and her nails and her body hair are obviously out of control, because they warrant shrieks from the prep team when they have her take off her sweatpants and jumper, leaving her in just her underwear.

"Oh my", Ely laments, holding up one of her hands, tilting her bitten down nails in the light, "This is going to take some work."

The other woman, Olive, reclines the chair Mari is sitting in and they start the long and painful process of removing any offending body hair. Spreading hot wax on her, ripping it off and then covering her body in lotions.

Evey darts in and out of the room, alternating between carding her hands through Mari's hair and murmuring, and worrying over Finnick in whatever room he's in.

By the time they're done Mari's body is red and raw. Every single bit of unneeded body hair is gone from her. Her eyebrows are almost unrecognisable with how neat and shaped they are, and her nails are long, blue and almost claw like.

She looks in the mirror and can barely recognise herself, she looks cleaner and more put together than she has in weeks.

Evey lets Mari put her clothes back on and takes her out into the living room. Finnick is on the couch halfway through tugging a jumper back onto his body with the third and fourth member of the prep team ripping a wax strip off a spot on his calf.

Finnick squeezes the rest of the way through the jumper, his head popping out the top, "You're finished before me", he says when he sees Mari and Evey in the doorway, "That's a first."

Mari snorts, ignoring Evey's hands at her hair and crossing into the kitchen, "Lucky I guess", she shrugs. She sets the full kettle on the stove to boil, preparing to make herself tea like she had intended to this morning.

Evey waves her hands about, "It's her _hair_ ", she says, "I have no clue what to do with it. I didn't bring my extensions because I thought she would have let it _grow_."

Mari turns around and leans against the counter by the stovetop. Finnick shrugs in response to Evey's complaint as Uka spreads more hot wax down his calf and Danyella spreads lotion over the other one. It's odd to see other people's hands all over him after so much time away from the Capitol.

"Sorry Evey", Mari says but she isn't really, "You know I hate it long."

"Just leave it", Finnick contributes, stopping as Uka rips the wax off his skin, "They're not paying attention to _us_."

Mari laughs a little sarcastically, "Well they will if you're next to me."

Evey groans, "Oh no."

The kettle on the stove begins to boil, Mari perches herself on a stool once her tea is hot in her mug. The prep team not attending to Finnick run in and out of the house, bringing things in and taking things out. Burch hurries around with them, shouting things momentarily. Mari gets the sense that he is not quite helping, rather pretending he knows how to help them. Evey hangs over Finnick, worrying over a bruise on his thigh and his unkempt hair. Mari is glad that all the attention is not on her as it usually would be. She feels like an imposter with her clean skin and the plastic hanging off her nails but it's a relief to not have twenty people running around her worrying about every single thing that is out of place.

There is plenty of time for that tomorrow.

Eventually, when her tea is long since gone and they've all eaten sandwiches from Mari's pantry, Evey sits her down in the bathroom, deep conditions her hair and trims it so it looks neater than it has in a while. She dries it and then brushes lotions and oils and serums through it to keep it soft. When Evey is done it sits a couple of inches below her ears. It looks strangely longer than it had before, Mari assumes this is because it is properly clean and straightened for the first time in a while.

Burch, Evey and the prep team head off just as the sun begins to get low in the sky. Evey leaves them both with a list of numerous things to do before they go to bed and in the morning when they wake up. Burch tells them to be awake and ready at five in the morning and Mari wants to throttle him to death right then and there.

She and Finnick, though reluctantly, manage their way through the various creams and serums that Evey has left for them. Mari does her best to find something in her cupboards that fits on the list of food that won't bloat her, but she ends up just eating three oranges and drinking as much water as she can stomach in the span of an hour. Her stomach still growls insatiably when she and Finnick are in bed at nine-thirty.

They both try to go to sleep but Mari is kept awake for hours dreading the Capitol camera crews and having to see Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark in the flesh.

She wakes the next morning, sweaty and cold, to the alarm clock that beeps incessantly across the room. She shakes Finnick awake to the point of almost pushing him from the bed, ensuring that he is up, and disappears into the bathroom to wash herself. Her hair remains soft and free of knots despite how much she tossed and turned with nightmares that night.

Her stomach growls again as she hops out of the shower. She finds Finnick in the kitchen struggling to keep his eyes awake, eating toast heaped with cheese. Mari scowls and cuts up another orange.

This morning Burch and Evey don't even bother to knock, they just barge in with the prep team in tow and hustle them off to different rooms before they can even stop eating. Though Evey lets Mari bring a large canteen of water.

The first thing Evey does is squeeze Mari into a sea blue satin dress with no straps that barely covers any of her body. It's tight at her chest and her waist, only becoming slightly looser as it goes down her legs. It's plain but still pretty enough to look presentable. Mari wonders why Evey still tries to make her look attractive for the Capitol, it clearly doesn't work, no one is interested in her like that when she stands next to Finnick all the time. She says as much when Evey and Uka are doing her makeup while Olive straightens her hair again.

"You could dress me in a sack next to him", Mari says, "People could care less what I look like. Why do you squeeze me into these tiny dresses?"

'Squeeze' and 'tiny' are likely inaccurate words when considering Mari's current size though. Mari has always been thin, even through the Games she was small, but now, with nightmares plaguing her more than usual and her mental state in shambles she is bony and slips into things she used to have to squeeze into. Still, the dress is tight in places and makes it hard to breathe when she shifts the wrong way.

"They're form fitting", Evey corrects, "And, it's _because_ you deserve to look beautiful."

Mari hums but doesn't quite agree.

Evey and Olive continue with her makeup.

As Olive applies blue glitter onto her eyelids Mari suddenly wonders what on earth, she will do about the freezing temperatures outside. She's about to ask but Evey forces her mouth shut as she applies lip gloss.

It's not long until she gets an answer though. Once she is done Evey presents her with a thin see-through shawl embroidered with little seashells and starfish, and strappy aqua heels that will likely cause her to trip on the cobblestones outside.

"Gee", Mari says after she's got both of them on, "Feels warm."

Evey waves her off with a roll of her eyes and helps her out into the hallway where Burch and Finnick are waiting. Finnick looks warm and relatively comfortable in slacks and a deep blue button up, Mari huffs at the sight.

"Shit", Finnick says when he lays eyes on her, though she strongly suspects that is because there is barely anything on her as opposed to any sort of shock at her stunning beauty.

"Right", Mari bemoans, "I'm going to freeze."

She grips onto Finnick's arm as she tries to relearn how to walk in her heels.

Thankfully, there is a car waiting outside the door for them. She only has to endure cobblestones and biting cold temperatures for a slight moment before she is in the back of a warm car with Finnick on her other side.

"Uh", Finnick says jokingly, "Did Evey forget a part of your dress perhaps?"

"Oh god", she groans, "I know."

Goosebumps have already raised on her legs, though they are far less noticeable with the lack of body hair. Finnick gives her a sympathetic look.

The car moves through the streets at a leisurely pace, tipping and tilting with the uneven road. District Four is not made to be driven in. Mari is grateful when they are at the back entrance to the Justice Building only minutes later.

Finnick helps her up to the steps so her heels don't sink into the muddy path beneath them. She hurries up the steps, Evey following just behind holding her shawl up to stop it from trailing on the ground. A peacekeeper holds the door open for the four of them and they enter into the foyer to be greeted by District Four's Mayor with a beaming smile on his face. He, for the most part, brushes them all off and makes a beeline for Finnick, shaking his hand and repeating meaningless platitudes.

Mari just snorts and lets Finnick be led off by the enthusiastic Mayor. Burch huffs indignantly next to her and they follow Finnick and the Mayor up a set of stairs and down a hallway into the expansive dining room.

The table stretches across the length of the room, there are at least thirty place settings. The decorations are all blue and white and driftwood. In between every few seats there is an adornment of seashells and lit candles. Mari wrinkles her nose.

It's unpleasant to see so much of the Capitol in a room in District Four. They see this every year at every Victory Tour, but it never fails to put a bad feeling in her stomach. She's sure any Capitol citizen worth their salt would find this boring, but for Mari it is too much.

The Mayor eventually detaches from Finnick to return to the foyer, he lets them find their seats among the few District and Capitol officials already seated. The four of them are all in a cluster at the end closest to the door, Finnick on Mari's left.

They are offered drinks by an Avox who must have come with the Capitol train. Mari and Finnick decline, while Burch and Evey are no doubt glad to have a drink in their hands. She imagines the Districts are a bore for them, not that she could ever relate.

Finnick leans over to whisper in Mari's ear, "This is going to be painful."

"Tell me about it", Mari whispers back, adjusting the bust of her dress.

It's only ten minutes of light chatter between then before Katniss and Peeta are being ushered in in a crowd of Capitol people. Most of them are Capitol delegates, ones that monitor District Four's production and efficiency. Teams of people monitoring a District they visit once or twice a year; Mari feels disdain for them every time she lays eyes on them. Now is no better.

They hound the Victors as they try to take their seats at the opposite ends of the table.

Haymitch and Effie come in after them with the Mayor, both of them acknowledge Finnick and Mari. Haymitch with a nod of his head and Effie with a greeting that comes out as a squeal. They take their seats; the Mayor makes a toast, and the food starts to come out.

It is the one time she and Finnick are required to make an appearance that doesn't entirely revolve around them. She is marginally grateful for it as small pots of fish stew are brought out and placed in front of them. Though she wonders why their presence is required when no one wants anything from them, even Finnick is old news in the face of the Star-Crossed Lovers from District Twelve.

Mari can barely heart Evey talking across from her with the loud conversation at the other end of the table. People adorned in glitter and jewels and elaborate clothing, leaning over the few District officials in their best suits, to spit questions at the District Twelve Victors. It reminds Mari of when she was in their position.

The second course comes out, plates upon plates of various raw fish, cooked lobster, garlic shrimp, oysters, mussels, squid and scallops. Even with the endless amounts of money Mari has and her trips to the Capitol, it's still almost more food she's seen at once in her life. Mari piles the seafood onto her plate.

"We have these at home you know", Finnick laughs.

She just raises an eyebrow and stuffs a piece of cooked squid into her mouth in reply.

She could just as easily replicate this at home, but it would take a whole day's work and why not savour it when the best chefs in the District had no doubt prepared the platter for them all. Besides, she's starving from only eating orange slices for two days.

Mari can only make it about halfway through the plate before she has to slow down and sneak bits onto Finnick's plate or back on the platter.

Somewhere up the other end of the table Katniss croons something about how delicious the food is. Despite herself Mari wells with pride. She doesn't need anyone approval, definitely not Katniss Everdeen's, but she is nothing if not proud of her home.

For a moment she can't look away from them. All the way at the other end of the table answering terrible questions, stuffing their faces and looking generally in love. It sickens her a little, she wonders if this is all an act or if they genuinely love one another. From the look in Peeta's eyes it is clear that he loves Katniss, but Katniss is harder to read. She has always looked guarded and empty behind the eyes to Mari.

Katniss could certainly convince any Capitol citizen of her devotion to Peeta, but Mari knows what that berry stunt she pulled could be construed as. Katniss isn't a very good actor. Everything about her looks stiff. The smiles she pulls don't quite reach they eyes, and Mari can see her face twitch every time someone asks a question.

The third and fourth courses pass uneventfully. She and Finnick chat with Burch and Evey. She and Finnick try to ignore the Victors at the other end of the table. After desert they all mill about as music plays in the background. Mari is more than ready to leave but some official has latched on to Finnick and Evey keeps telling her it would be rude to leave. Besides, there is still the speech that the Victors need to make.

There is likely a crowd of District Four citizens being rounded up outside the Justice Building right now. Dylan's family and Coral's mother being forced onto platforms for Katniss and Peeta to see. Mari is glad she doesn't have to face them again.

Soon, Effie is ushering the Victors out the room to ready them for their speech. The Capitol officials quickly disperse after that, probably going back to the train to return home. Burch bids them a quick goodbye, too caught up in conversation, and trails off with the rest of them. Evey stays back and gives Mari and itemised list of things to take care of so she is ready for the next Games, tells Mari to keep the dress, gives them both hugs and rushes off after Burch as well.

Mari supposes that there is only so long they can go in the Districts without running back to the comfort of their own people.

After the Capitol officials have dispersed it's only Finnick, Mari, two District officials and Haymitch. She and Finnick are about to leave when Haymitch walks by and signals for them to follow. Mari exchanges a glance with Finnick, but they follow him down staircases and out into the back garden.

"Lovebirds", he says in greeting once they're presumably alone.

Finnick snorts.

"How are you?", Mari asks, though confused about what exactly the nature of this conversation is.

He shrugs noncommittally, "Oh, you know."

The outside air is cold against Mari's bare skin, the wind has picked up from this morning. She pulls the shawl tighter around her as if it will actually do something.

Suddenly and uncharacteristically Haymitch is lurching forward to give her a hug. She incredibly confused at first and Finnick even bristles next to her with confusion. Or at least it's confusing until Haymitch find her hand somewhere in the strange embrace and slips a familiar feeling pebble into her fingers.

"You'll know what it means when the time comes", he says quietly before he pulls away, "Act normal".

Mari sends Haymitch a terse smile as he steps back, lurching about as if to seem drunker than he no doubt already is. She loops an arm into Finnick's and tries to inconspicuously drop the pebble into the pocket of his jacket.

"We should go inside", Mari says, eyebrows furrowed, still trying to figure out exactly what Haymitch means by the words and the pebble (if it is what she suspects it is).

Finnick is still looking between the two of them, confusion across his face, but he nods nevertheless, and smiles charmingly, "Wouldn't want Marina to catch a cold."

Her full name sounds wrong in his mouth, but she knows it's part of the act.

"Ah", Haymitch says gruffly, eyes fixed on a spot behind Mari, "Of course, of course. I have Victors to attend to after all. Wouldn't want to forget them."

They all turn around to go inside. As Mari goes to walk up the steps, she spots the Peacekeeper just on the other side of the iron fence. He stands there, gun in hand, head facing forward, but his eyes unmistakably trained on them.

Mari wonders just how close they came to being found out.


	17. in all chaos there is calculation

**THE PEACEKEEPER AT THE DOOR REFUSES** to let them out as they try to leave. He takes a threatening step forward and has another Peacekeeper guide them back up the stairs. The man presses up behind them until they're back in the dining room, then he shuts the door firmly behind them. Mari is glad to not hear the click of a lock.

"What", Mari mumbles, tearing her eyes away from the closed door.

A couple of servers are clearing things up around them taking plates and platters off into the kitchen through the inconspicuous door at the back of the room.

"Hey", Mari says to one of them, stepping toward the table, "Do you know what's going on? They won't let us leave."

The server blinks a few times, holding a stack of plates in her hands, she looks just a little younger than Mari and seems familiar enough too, "Oh", she says with a glance toward Finnick, and Mari guesses that she knows who they are (though is that not obvious? Considering how they are dressed and where they are?), "The Victors are making their speech. The whole District is out there."

"Ah", Mari says, letting herself fall back next to Finnick, "Of course. Sorry."

"It's ok", the woman mumbles.

She walks into the kitchen.

"Of course,", Finnick repeats, "It must be packed out there."

Mari takes a few steps toward the windows at the other side of the room and peers down across the plaza. The windows are tinted, so Mari doesn't worry about anyone seeing her. But really, even if the windows weren't tinted Mari wouldn't have to worry. The woman was right, the entire District _does_ seem to be out there. They're packed like sardines in the small area in front of the stage. She can see the people stretch out through the adjoining streets, filling every empty space.

Peacekeepers can't keep track of every single person in District Four, mainly because there are so many small ramshackle towns past the mudflats that stay inaccessible to those who can't navigate the waters; and there are not enough District born Peacekeepers who can force them into the town square every time something mildly important happens. Regardless, some of the Peacekeepers simply don't care enough to make sure everyone is accounted for. District Four is kept in line other ways, by the fences far out to sea that seem impossible in their existence, the mangrove forests that are far too treacherous to navigate for people who have never learned how, and the forceful acquisition of people's hard-earned produce for delivery to the Capitol (for the smallest possible pay).

Today, however, it seems like everyone is gathered in front of the stage and Mari can only assume that it is by choice.

It's difficult to hear what Katniss is saying over the crowd. Partly because sound does not travel well through brick walls and closed windows, but mostly because they are chanting her name out there. A crowd of people pulsing with seething rage, yelling Katniss' name over and over and over.

The Peacekeepers on the edge of the crowds can do nothing, there is no one to shoot and they would be vastly outnumbered if they were to take action. Instead they just start shoving everyone closer together, trying to silence the crowd the best they can.

Mari peers below the window and sees a few Peacekeepers rush Katniss and Peeta off the stage and back into the building. Mari hears a door slam downstairs, then sets of rapid footfalls against the ground as they are no doubt rushed back to the train.

Mari looks to Finnick, who still has his eyes glued out at the swelling crowd, "What's happening?", she asks even though she knows _exactly_ what's happening.

He shakes his head. He has no answer for her.

A gunshot sounds and Mari snaps her head to look back out the window, her heart starts to beat fast in her chest. As far as she can tell no one has been shot, a Peacekeeper lowers their gun from the sky and she can only assume that the bullet came from them. The crowd starts to disperse from that spot, fighting against the people who continue to fill the streets. It takes time because with every person that leaves the plaza, more flood their way in.

Mari feels helpless as she watches Peacekeepers press against the crowd, beating anyone who breaches their line.

The Mayor joins her and Finnick after a while, looking shaken. He is clearly shocked to see them still in the building too, "Oh hello."

"Sorry", Finnick says, "They wouldn't let us leave."

"Ah", the Mayor nods, toying nervously with his hands, "I'm sure the square will be empty soon. The Peacekeepers are very good at what they do."

Mari can't help the hint of a scowl that rises on her face. She'd always assumed that the Mayor was more loyal to the Capitol than District Four, but she never really expected something like _that_ from him. She wonders if he thinks that they sympathise with the Peacekeepers as well. She wonders what he thinks goes on in their head. There is so much rage in her she is sometimes stunned to know it does not show all over her face.

Since winning her Games, Mari has always wondered what people in the District really think about her and her fellow Victors. She knows there are people who understand that she is normal, but she also knows what some people think of _anyone_ who has visited the Capitol. Are there people that assume she thinks this is the way things should be? Are there people that think she wouldn't be out there with them if she had a choice? Though, if any of them were to see her watching up from this window in a dress from the Capitol she would not blame them for hating her.

Is Bailey down there now, risking his life? As she stays sheltered behind brick walls all because she killed children in some ridiculous game of survival.

"It looks safe", Finnick says after some time, he guides Mari toward the door, "We should get going now", he says to the Mayor.

They get back to her house far later than they had anticipated. Mari is cold and her feet are sore, but she is in one piece and is mostly just angry that she stayed in the Justice Building as their District fought against the Peacekeepers.

Her house still shows signs of the Prep Team's work; pots of hardened wax, cloths, and towels discarded across the room, Finnick's pajamas in a pile on the floor. She doesn't blame them for not cleaning up, she doubts they even know how to. _Besides_ she wouldn't have wanted them in her house for any longer than they already were.

Finnick is in the process of taking his jacket off when Mari remembers their conversation with Haymitch earlier. She darts forward as fast as she can in her shoes and pulls the pebble from his pocket.

Unsurprisingly to Mari it is a spitting image of the pebble she'd been given earlier in the year by the woman in the stall. The only difference is that the Mockingjay is painted in a glittering gold that glints even under the lights in Mari's hallway. She lets Finnick get a look at it once she's confirmed what Haymitch has given them.

"He said to me that we would know what it meant when the time comes", Mari says, finger worrying at the fabric of her dress.

"Haymitch?", Finnick asks, "Is that was the hug was about?"

Mari nods.

"I did think that was a bit weird", Finnick says, pulling the jacket the rest of the way off, "Figured he was drunk."

She snorts a little.

"What do you think he means?", Finnick asks after a moment.

"No clue", Mari shakes her head, as Finnick picks up the other clothes from the ground, "But I think it has something to do with what happened in the square."

"Yeah", he says, catching his lip between his teeth, "That was interesting. I didn't expect it, but I guess we've been distracted recently."

Mari hums in agreement.

"Well", she says after a moment, "I'm going to get changed."

She darts upstairs and pulls the jumper and pants from the other day back onto her body, the dress gets discarded at the bottom of her closet after she squeezes out of it. She will find somewhere for it to go another day, though that place to go will likely be stuffed up in the attic and collecting dust.

Back in the living room, Finnick has gotten changed as well, he's on the couch toying with the Mockingjay painted pebble, eyebrows furrowed.

"I think it's coming", he says when Mari sits down.

"I do too", Mari agrees, "What do we do?"

He shakes his head, putting the pebble down and scooting closer to her until they're almost touching, "I don't know. Prepare, I guess. So we're ready when the time comes. Whenever that is."

Mari sighs and lets her head fall against his shoulder; in response, he gently leans his chin on top of her head and winds an arm around her back.

"I won't let you get hurt", he says.

Mari bites her lip and finds his hand with hers, "I can protect myself", she reminds him, she's been doing on her own it for years.

"I know", she can feel him nod against her head, "Still."

"I don't need you to stop me from getting hurt, Finn", she says softly, squeezing his hand gently, "I've already _been_ hurt, there's nothing that either of us can do about that now."

He squeezes her hand in return, "I wish we hadn't", he says.

"So do I", she replies.

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 **THE NEXT MORNING, THEY TRY TO GO** into town for supplies but are stopped halfway down the path out of the Village by Marlin Murray, one of the other Victors.

"It's chaos down there", he says, tired eyed and weary, "There are Peacekeepers on every corner and people are getting dragged to the town centre. Go another day."

"We need food", Mari replies, thinking of how empty her pantry is and how hungry she suddenly is, "Do you think it'll be safe?"

Marlin shrugs noncommittally, "For us, probably. Be careful."

Then he turns and walks the rest of the way back to the Victors Village.

Mari exchanges a glance with Finnick. It's not often they talk to Marlin or Sam, both of them have whole families to take care of and neither of them mentored Mari nor Finnick. They are only cordial because they all know what it is like to be in the Games. It is rare for them to express concern for one another.

"We have to go", Finnick says, looking concerned, "Annie needs food as well."

Mari nods in agreement, she doesn't even know the last time Annie went into town for food. If there truly is something going on in town then it would be better to stock up than not have anything.

They make the rest of the trek into town quickly, careful to take lesser-known routes into the markets. Though it is difficult to escape the mayhem. Marlin was right in saying there was a Peacekeeper on every corner. Every now and then they come across someone being dragged screaming from a house or someone mid brawl with a Peacekeeper and they have to change their route.

Mari wishes she could help every person they come across, but she knows it would just cause more harm than good. Instead, they keep their heads down and make it to the markets a long time after they had expected to.

Lucky for them the markets are not yet shut, and though there are far fewer stalls than usual there is still plenty of food to buy.

Mari obtains far more food than they will ever need and tries to apologise for not being able to do anything more for them all without actually saying it out loud. There are too many Peacekeepers watching them for her to say anything meaningful. Mostly, everyone just takes their money and hurriedly hands them their produce.

They leave quickly, under the watchful and wary eyes of Peacekeepers the entire way. There are far too many to avoid now. It fills Mari with an acute sense of dread.

When they're back in the Victors Village the two baskets full of food feel like far too much, even after they've visited Annie with a large portion of it. Mari goes to sleep that night with nightmares of riots in the streets and worrying that all the food they bought will go to waste.

The next morning it turns out that they are lucky they went to the markets when they did. Marlin knocks on their door when the sun is still high in the sky and tells them that the District is in lockdown.

His wife had found out when she went to take their kids to school, she had been stopped halfway to town by a Peacekeeper screaming at them to get back in their house.

It is not surprising really, given the state of unrest since Katniss' speech; given the inklings of rebellion that Katniss Everdeen has brought about ever since she and Peeta came out the other side of their Games.

Mari cannot help but panic the moment she remembers that Bailey is in the midst of it all. In his apartment above the butcher, just on the border of the town square. He has a front-row seat to whatever horrors the Peacekeepers will be conducting over the coming days, weeks, months, however long this lasts. And Mari does not trust him to stay out of it. They are siblings, after all, born of the same blood, and there is something insatiable and angry inside of Mari. Something that is only chained by the threats of President Snow. Bailey does not have anything like that.

His anger is unbridled, unrestrained.

Finnick watches Mari pace the kitchen and the living room for two straight days until he calls Bailey himself. He holds the phone out to Mari and lets her ask Bailey every question she has asked herself over and over.

"Bailey", she sighs in relief when he finally picks up, "You're okay."

Bailey sounds weary, "I'm fine, Marina."

"What's going on?", she asks, pleading, "Are you safe? Please tell me you're staying out of this. I don't want you to get hurt."

Bailey sighs, "I'm fine for now", and though he doesn't say it Mari senses that he is not staying out of it, "They're flogging people who leave their homes", he scratches at something, the wood on his wall perhaps, the sound rings in her ear, "It started with the people living on the streets. The healer across the street is taking them in if they pass by her building. But she can't keep them for long."

"What about you?", Mari asks again, "Tell me", she presses, "Tell me you're staying out of this."

"I've not left the house", he mutters, "I have plenty to eat. Thank _fuck_."

Though, 'I've not left the house' doesn't mean he's staying out of it - - it still reassures Mari somewhat. He can't be punished if he stays where he is. (But if they want to punish him, make an example of him, they will find a way, Mari supposes).

"Don't take anyone in", Mari breathes, "They can punish you for that too."

Bailey stays quiet for a moment. But even that is enough for Mari to suspect that he either is, has, or will harbor someone running from the Peacekeepers.

"I'm not", Bailey says.

Mari doesn't believe him. He has always had too much of their father in him. He is far too eager to help others. (Though he never did help her when she needed him).

"Be careful", she says voice low, "You don't know what they're capable of."

He scoffs, "I am _fully_ aware of what they are capable, Marina. They are outside of my window every morning showing me what they are _capable_ of."

She tenses, voice slow and angry, "You know exactly what I mean. They could kill you if you step a _toe_ out of line. Be careful."

He breathes in through his nose and Mari can tell he wants to say more. But he cannot. There is no absolute guarantee that there is not a Peacekeeper listening in at this very moment. It would be foolish to accuse him of anything, to demand he tell her exactly what he thinks (about her, about the Peacekeepers, about the Capitol, about the Games).

"Goodbye, Marina", he slams the phone onto the receiver and the dial tone rings deafening in her ears.

She presses the phone back into Finnick's hands, and he hangs it back on the wall for her, "Sorry", he tells her, "I thought it would help."

She nods, "It's fine. It's fine."

They sit down on her couch and Mari leans her forehead against his shoulder, "He's always resented me for it", she sighs as Finnick rubs the top of her thigh with the pad of his thumb, "My father's death. Winning the Games. I don't know why. But he couldn't stand the sight of me after Dad and it was even worse after the Games... you know that. But now. With all _this_ , I think he hates me because I'm part of the Capitol... or maybe he hates that he can never understand what it's like to come out of those Games alive", Mari shrugs, "I don't know. It just not the same."

"I know", Finnick sighs.

Mari lifts her head from his shoulder and twists around so she's sitting cross-legged in front of him. She takes his hand into hers, fidgeting with his fingers.

"We have difficult lives", Mari says, hot tears springing to her eyes, she stares down at his hand in hers, "I wish this had never happened to us."

Finnick breathes in and breathes out, his fingers tighten on hers, "So do I", he says, leaning his head forward, "But we have each other."

"Forever?", she winds her pinky finger into his, "Promise?"

"Forever", he squeezes back, "I promise."

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 **THE DISTRICT LOCKDOWN LASTS** for two weeks by the time it is all over.

Bailey calls her one morning and tells her that the Peacekeepers are letting people out of their homes and releasing prisoners from their holding cells.

Mari is relieved, not only because she has been going stir crazy locked in her house for two weeks, unable to even visit Annie, but also for Bailey. Who she doesn't have to worry about any longer... for now at the very least. She also worries for all the people in town who are surviving off the last bits of food they have and the people who rely so heavily on the meager incomes that they get from their jobs.

Mari feels regret when she looks around her too big home and the still fully stocked cupboards that she has won with the blood of children. There will be families that have to send their young children to sign up for tesserae the moment they are allowed from their homes. Families who will have to work long and hard hours to regain all the produce they have lost.

Mari hates herself for it sometimes.

Sometimes she wishes she had not come out of that arena. Wishes that she had let herself die of heatstroke and dehydration. Wishes she had never become this complete bastardisation of the girl that Marina Fischer used to be.

After Bailey's call, she decides that hearing him tell her she is okay was not enough and that she needs to visit him as soon as possible to check that he is not hiding anything from her. She dresses, pulling on the first clothes she grabs from her closet. Then she rouses Finnick and a jumble of words rush out of her mouth.

He seems to understand and tells her to do whatever she needs to do.

Mari rushes down the stairs, slams the front door shut behind her, hauls open the iron gates at the head of the Victor's Village and almost sprints the whole way to Bailey's apartment.

She knocks furiously on the locked door around the back of the Butcher. She has to hold her sleeve over her nose because the smell of rotting meat from the unemptied dumpster is so pungent.

Mari hears the noise of hurried steps down the stairs before the door swings open. Bailey stands on the other side, looking by all means unharmed.

"What are you doing here?", he demands, looking more confused and angry than anything else.

The rush of adrenaline and panic inside of Mari finally settles, overcast by embarrassment and resentment. Why did she rush over here to see a brother that didn't give a shit about her during the worst days of her life?

She blinks, eyes narrowing slightly, "To check that you were fine."

"I don't need you to check on me", he replies, a bite to it.

"I can see as much", she says slowly.

Really, she thinks, what does she owe this person that stands before her? He has her eyes (their mothers' eyes), their fathers' hair, and the same calculated grief they have both had their entire lives. But what is he to her? He is not her brother, not her family. Not anymore. Not since Wade Fischer died and left them to drift.

He is a stranger now. An acquaintance maybe.

What _brother_ gets angry when you check that they're safe?

"I'll go", she spits.

Bailey says nothing, just shuts the door, and bounds back up the steps.

Hot shame runs through her as she navigates the streets back to the Victors Village.

What is to happen now? With this rebellion quelled. Katniss Everdeen is still a symbol that even President Snow cannot stomp out. She and Peeta will marry, have their wedding; and then what? This will fade into nothing as every other show of resistance has.

Mari doubts it. Not with Katniss.

She is a fire that cannot be fought.

Mari slows somewhere on the outskirts of town. A group of about four Peacekeepers are standing guard around the wall of an abandoned home. Mari keeps her head down as she passes by, but the thing they are guarding is unmistakable.

A young boy, only seventeen at the most, decked out in a Peacekeeper uniform, is perched on a ladder, bucket balanced precariously on top and he's scrubbing furiously at a big red Mockingjay.

She can't help but stare.

One of the Peacekeepers urges her on but she looks around and suddenly can't stop seeing the Mockingjays. Red and black and white, one on every surface she can see. Exposed brick wall, concrete paths, rusting bins, and a dilapidated cart. There is one everywhere she looks.

Mari wonders what it is that Bailey has not told her. What exactly it is that happened while Mari was holed up in her too-big house behind massive iron gates that lock from the inside.

What has she missed?


	18. i'll be there when your reality drowns

**THE MONTHS SINCE KATNISS AND PEETA'S** visit to District Four have felt like living in a sort of limbo. Mari feels the unease everywhere she goes; the stirrings of rebellion that dwell in the places that the Peacekeepers cannot reach. It is all-encompassing and Mari finds that she cannot escape the feeling of being watched no matter how far she runs.

She especially feels suffocated by the presence of the Peacekeepers. They have not disappeared like they did the last time rebellion rolled around. They are a constant now. On street corners, standing next to every stall, outside seemingly every shop, on the beach, and even out the front of the Victors Village. Her chest tightens and her hands grow clammy every time she meets their eyes. Do they know what is going on inside her head? Their blank stares certainly make it seem like they do.

Not to mention the fact that the Games are fast approaching.

It is spring again, with chilly nights and lukewarm days. It's meant to be pleasant, but all Mari can do is count down the months until the day of the reaping.

It's even more harrowing when she remembers that this is the year of the Quarter Quell. These Games will be like no other and Mari is increasingly nervous about what horror Snow will announce for the children living in the Districts. She has heard stories from those alive during the last and she is haunted by those memories every time she looks Haymitch in his hollow eyes.

She and Finnick do their best to distract themselves.

They go for runs on the beach every morning; force Annie over and cook huge meals that they can barely finish; spend whole days out in her garden weeding and replanting; go out on Caspian Odair's old boat where Finnick teaches her how to spearfish; and one day about a month ago she and Finnick hauled half of his things into Mari's house when they realised he hadn't left hers in weeks.

It easier that way; co-existing in her home like they do.

It helps with the nightmares and the days where they can't get out of bed because it's all too much. No matter how hard it gets there is always someone to lean on. Finnick will always be that for her. Her family, her rock. The person that is there for her. They may have their problems and Mari is slowly learning that Finnick doesn't need to be the only reason she is alive, but they are everything to each other.

Mari doesn't understand how Annie does it, all alone in her big house with no one to turn to when things get terrible. She and Finnick and the family that Annie still has, they are all still there for her, but there are days, weeks even when Annie does not leave the house, where she refuses anyone's help. Mari has never been like that, if there is help available, she is ready and willing to take it almost always.

She supposes that's why Finnick lives with her and Annie does not.

That could also be down to the fact that she and Finnick have been thick as thieves since they met at five years old.

Sometimes Mari is unsure whether she and Finnick are so close simply because of chance and circumstance; because they met so long ago and bonded over whatever it is that little kids bond over; or if they are so close because they are truly and deeply meant to be best friends. But sometimes she looks at him and her heart swells with emotion and she remembers every time they have come back to each other when by all other means they wouldn't have. If they were not meant to be together would they really have stuck it out through the things they have?

Not even Mari and her brother can say they've done that.

In fact, Mari has not talked to Bailey in months. Though that is likely for the best.

It's late one spring morning when Finnick finds Mari in the dusty study at the end of the top floor hallway. They barely spend any time in there and Mari has already heard Finnick travel up and down the staircase twice in an effort to find her. He swings the door open, but from the look on his face it seems like he doesn't expect her to be in there at all.

Mari has a tattered book in her hands and has her legs folded underneath her on an old chair that smells distinctly of mould. She sweeps her eyes over a barely awake Finnick, his hair is damp from the shower she heard him have before he looked through the house for her. His white shirt clings to his chest and Mari has to fight for her eyes not to trail further down. His physique would always be shocking to her, no matter how many times she'd seen it. She had missed the years where he had suddenly developed rock-hard abs and toned muscles; and she had seemingly never stopped thinking he actually looked like the fourteen-year-old version of himself that still had to grow into gangly limbs and his budding good-looks.

She blinks twice and forces herself to look away from his chest and up to his face. He smirks just slightly, and she wants to kick herself. _He's your best friend. He's your best friend. He's your best friend. He's your best friend._ She thinks over and over.

But it's not like she's never _thought_ about it.

"Uh", he says, and she resolves to never think about him like that ever again (though that is remarkably difficult when he is pressed up against her in bed every night), "Didn't expect to find you in here."

Mari shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant though embarrassment burns through her, "Felt like reading", she holds up the book.

Finnick nods, "Do you want me to make breakfast? I was going to make eggs."

"Oh", Mari shifts in her seat, pushing her legs out from underneath her, "Yes please."

"How many?"

"Two", she slides the book onto the empty desk next to her, "Give me a second, I'll come down and help."

"You sure?", he asks, leaning forward in the doorframe just a bit.

"Of course."

He gives her a small grin and disappears down the hallway. Mari huffs a laugh and shoves the book back into its spot in the bookcase. She stops in the bedroom and changes into something that doesn't smell like the mildew of the study that has been left alone for years. She's not really sure why'd she gone in there this morning anyway, a change perhaps? Mari has gotten sick of doing the same things over and over. It's more difficult for them to go into town these days with the Peacekeepers everywhere so they've resorted to doing the same five things in the vicinity of the Victors Village and as much as she hates to say it, she's getting a little bored.

Downstairs, Finnick has a pan heating up on the stovetop.

He's leant against the counter concentrating on scraping butter into the already sizzling pan. Mari stops at the doorway and can't help her smile. It's the first day in a few weeks he's acted completely himself and it lifts a weight off her chest that she didn't even realise was there.

"Need help?", she asks soft smile still playing on her lips.

He turns his head to her, eyes rolling, "No", he gives the spoon a hard tap and the rest of the butter falls into the pan, "I'm _fine_ ", he insists.

She giggles and it feels like a foreign sound in her mouth, "Sure."

She takes a few steps into the kitchen and hoists herself up onto the kitchen island, feet propped up on the stool she should be sitting on. Finnick turns the heat on the pan down and cracks four eggs into the pan in one go. Mari shakes her head but lets him cook as he pleases, she'll just cut the eggs into four pieces when it's all done.

He stands across from her as they wait for the food to cook.

Despite earlier, she really can't help staring at him. She's really not sure what it is about him today. There's nothing particularly _remarkable_ about him today of all days; she's certainly seen him looking better and more well-put-together. He looks... _messy_... today. His hair is tangled and sticking up in every possible direction now that its dry, his shirt is crumpled and is hoisted up just slightly at his waist revealing soft skin and it takes more than a few seconds for her to stop staring at it, there's a red wrinkle still on his face from where he was pressed up against the pillow last night and his green eyes are ringed by dark bags.

 _What the fuck is with her today?_ She wonders, looking suddenly at the eggs cooking in the pan instead of at him. It's not like she's never thought about him like that but she's always able to put those thoughts to rest with little effort.

"So", he says, and she's relieved to see that he doesn't seem to be able to decipher what's going on in her stupid brain, "What do you want to do today?"

She shrugs, "Isn't the Quarter Quell announcement today?"

"Oh", Finnick twists his mouth, "Shit, yeah."

Mari hums, tipping her head back.

She lets her head fall back down, bobbing back into place to check on the eggs again. But instead of an unobstructed view to the stove top she just comes face-to-face with Finnick who has leant forward, boxing her in between his arms. She has to restrain from yelping in surprise.

"Uh", she drags out, " _Hi_?"

"Hey", he replies with a slow blink.

Her heart skips a quick beat and a sudden rush of inappropriate thoughts go through her head. He's too close and all she wants to do is lean into him. But she doesn't, she _can't_.

From his sudden rapid blinking and the way he pulls back only a few seconds later she can tell he did it on instinct. She thinks about all the times he must have to be intimate with people he would rather not touch with a ten-foot pole and the rush of blood to her head settles. He must do this constantly in the Capitol and she can't blame him for slipping up, even here with her. They both become different people when they go to the Capitol and even Mari has glimpses of that person back home.

He had visited the Capitol just a few weeks ago anyway.

 _It's just that_ , she reassures herself as her heart beats fast in her chest.

He slides the finished eggs onto a plate. Unsurprisingly it has cooked itself into one large egg. Mari laughs despite herself and jumps off the counter to help cut it into four separate pieces and they eat them there at the counter, leaning over the plate to stop from dropping food onto the ground.

"Should go get Annie", Finnick says through a mouthful of mushy egg.

Mari scrunches her nose at his behaviour until he realises and puts a hand over his mouth, apologising, "I'll give her a call now", Mari says with a nod, "I mentioned it to her the other day though. I'm not sure she wants to watch."

Finnick shrugs, dropping his fork onto the empty plate.

Mari walks over to the phone and dials the number for Annie's house, she presses the phone to her ear and hopes Annie is awake to pick up.

The phone almost rings out before Annie answers.

"Hello?", she asks, hesitant.

"Annie", Mari says, "It's me."

"Oh", she says in a rush of relief and Mari can almost see her anxiety deflate, "Hi."

"How are you?", Mari asks as she hops up onto the stool by the phone.

Annie sighs, "As good as I can, I guess. Given everything."

Mari hums sympathetically and shrugs even though Annie can't see her, "Yeah. Well you're welcome here anytime. You know that."

Annie mutters in agreement, "What's up?", she asks.

Mari bites her lip, "Did you want to watch the Quarter Quell announcement with Finn and me? We'll make dinner after to distract ourselves."

Annie pauses on the other end, "My Mom is coming over soon", she says with a heavy sigh, "Thank you though. Maybe I'll come over soon."

"Of course, Annie", Mari replies, "We miss you."

"Soon, I promise", she says and then she hangs the phone back on the receiver.

Mari does the same with a sigh.

Annie is the only one out of them with parents still living and the relationship she has with them now sometimes makes Mari glad that her parents don't have to see her like this. In the end they are all young and Mari is not sure how well Wade Fischer would have dealt with Mari already a shell of herself at nineteen years old.

She slides off the chair and dumps the dirty dishes in the empty sink.

"Her Mom is visiting", Mari tells Finnick, "She said she'd come another day."

Finnick nods.

The reading of the Quarter Quell card isn't until later in the day, somewhere just after lunch. Finnick has no issue occupying himself with various activities until noon rolls around, but Mari has a significant amount more trouble distracting herself.

Mari is already nervously pacing in the kitchen when the hologram in the living room turns itself on. She calls Finnick in from the back garden as the Capitol anthem plays loudly throughout the house. Finnick brushes dirt off his pants and hops over the back of the couch to sit down, she takes a seat next to him.

Her knee bounces rapidly up and down and Finnick places a hand on it in an attempt to calm her.

"Thanks", she mutters, though not even Finnick can stop the wave of anxiety about to rush over her.

Caesar Flickerman appears as the Capitol logo fades, decked out in a red that looks startlingly like fresh blood. He croons something to the camera, but everything feels and sounds far away so Mari can barely make any of it out. Her head spins as Caesar continues his enthusiasm and words start to become clear to her again.

"Mari", Finnick is saying, even though it comes through muffled, "Mari. It's going to be okay. I swear."

"Okay", she says, the thick fog clearing as she seems to centre herself back in reality, "Okay", she repeats.

Caesar Flickerman finishes his introduction in a quick rush of breath and then the anthem is playing and the camera cuts to a looming podium. Mari's breath catches as President Snow ascends the podium, looking every bit as threatening as he looks every time Mari sees him in person. A young boy trails behind him, a grey envelope clasped in his hands. He takes a spot just to the right of Snow, perfectly still.

It's more terrifying to watch than she had anticipated. Though this happens every year more or less, even without the reading of the card. There is a recap that details the long history of the Games and all of Mari's trauma is dug up again and laid out in front of her. There's no peace even when the Games are months away, she's still reminded of the children she will have to watch die; the children she will have to prepare for death (or victory if they happen to be lucky enough). She wonders what horrors Snow will present for the children of Panem this Quarter Quell, what horrible thing have they concocted for the 75th Hunger Games.

Snow starts on a long-winded explanation of the history of Panem, the dark days and the Games. It is riddled with thinly veiled threats about squashing rebellion and reminders of the necessary sacrifice that is the Games. He details the significance last two Quarter Quells and Mari can't get the image of a young Haymitch Abernathy out of her head. She can't imagine what it would have been like being eligible to be reaped those years, knowing what was in store for _months_ , filled with anxiety and wondering if you were going to be picked. Mari is not sure she could handle it.

"Now we honour our third Quarter Quell", Snow says.

Without really thinking Mari finds Finnick's hand and squeezes tight.

Snow takes the grey envelope from the young boy. He folds it open gently, revealing another yellowed envelope inside, marked with a 75. He runs his finger under the flap and slides the piece of paper from it.

He unfurls it and reads out loud, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

"What", Finnick whispers next to her, hand going slack in hers.

Mari's blood runs ice cold as the hologram shuts off in front of them, the outcries from the Capitol citizens cut off suddenly, leaving Mari's living room all too quiet.

It takes her a moment to understand the words Snow has spoken; to fully wrap her head around what they mean. _Existing pool of victors_. That means her, that means Annie, that means Johanna, that means Finnick.

All the worrying she has done about the children of Panem has been for nothing. They will not have to go into the arena this year. Mari may not even be alive to send them next year. That hits her deep in her chest, like a punch to the gut it leaves her winded. She breathes deeply, trying to stay lucid and present as she stares down at a stray thread in the carpet underfoot.

She will have to go in.

The couch dips as Finnick stands up.

She will have to go in. It's only her and Annie, and she can't let Annie go in. She knows that with a kind of certainty and clarity she has not felt in a long time. Not when Annie has family, not when Annie has already suffered much more than the rest of them, not when Annie would have no chance against hardened Victors who know the ins and outs of killing. She knows that immediately.

Then there's Finnick.

She looks up.

He's staring down at her, eyes glossy with tears.

They both know the reality of what they must do without hesitation. Marlin and Sam both have wives, both have children. Who would Finnick be to let them be torn from that? To leave their children without a father. And who would Mari be to ruin Annie's life any further? They are the only options. They have no family to miss them.

Mari doesn't have to say anything, Finnick understands her intentions.

"Mari", he says, stepping forward, "You can't."

She shakes her head, managing to stand from the couch on wobbly legs, "What am I supposed to do? I can't let Annie go in", she moves toward him and sets her hands on his arms, "There's nothing we can do. This is how it has to be."

Finnick lets his head drop against hers, forehead to forehead, "I know", he mutters, eyes shut, "I know."

"We'll do it together", she whispers, "No matter what happens we'll be there together."


	19. the weight of all our dread

**SHE BREATHES IN THE SALTY SMELL OF THE** sea that stretches out in front of her. She looks out at a vast horizon that no one will ever see the end of. The fences that sit miles out in the ocean are barely visible, but even the sight of them, little specks further out than she could ever hope to go, leave her feeling short of breath.

Especially now with the Quarter Quell approaching as the days get warmer and warmer, she finds it just a little bit harder to breathe every morning she wakes up. The fences remind her of the unfairness of the Capitol and the illusion of freedom that they all live in the shadow of. Sometimes in District Four it feels like there's more space than in other Districts, like they are further away from the Capitol's looming influence; but there will always be those fences and those thick impossible to navigate mangroves that stop anyone from getting out. It is the same as every other District, with their towns bordered by electric fences; the only way in and out will always be Capitol trains. There is no freedom here, only the illusion of it.

She is reminded of that now more than ever.

They have won their Games, have been promised freedom and safety and prosperity. Mari has become a person she never wanted to be for the sake of freedom; but instead she has become entangled with the Capitol and its Games. She has been responsible for countless death and caused many directly. She has seen her best friend turned into a plaything for gaudily dressed Capitol citizens who are not even worthy of breathing the same air as him.

And now, _now_ , they have the audacity to tell them that that is not enough. That they must kill and die for the Capitol's entertainment once again.

Though it's not even that, really. This isn't about the Capitol, it's not about entertainment. It's about keeping them in line, about keeping the rebellion in line. Reminding Panem that the odds will never be in their favour, that the Capitol decides what happens to every single one of them. That their lives and the lives of their loved ones hang in the balance.

Mari's life feels like it is spinning out of control.

She wakes up every morning and remembers that the Quarter Quell draws closer every day and her imminent death only follows it. Which is not to say she won't fight for her life, but there is no outcome of the 75th Games that does not directly result in her death. Either she dies in that arena at the hands of someone that she knows, even if only in passing; or she lives and Finnick does not (and there is no way that ends in a long happy life for her).

Killing herself now is an option, she thinks as she slides off the pier and into the choppy sea. It's a good idea, but a selfish one. She could swim far out to sea and let the water take her, drag her down into its depths to become one with the shipwrecks and reefs at the bottom of the ocean. Let the water fill her lungs and float peacefully toward death. She could. No one could stop her.

Mari dips underneath the waves and lets herself imagine it for a moment. She forces her eyes open and her eyes sting with contact from the salt water. The water is cloudy from the crashing of the waves and all the sand it drags up. She looks out into the depths, toward the fences, toward the fishing boats. She could let the water into her lungs right now, though it would not be enough. She needs to be further out, exhausted from the swim and far away from anything to latch onto. Too tired to fight it.

She resurfaces with a gasp.

She can't.

Hot shame runs through her.

She can't. She can't leave Finnick to tackle this alone. That would be unfair, to leave him without her, to leave him to go through the Games again without her at his side.

Mari trudges toward the shore, dragging one foot in front of the other until she makes it onto hot sand. Dripping wet she starts to make her way down the overgrown dirt path back toward the Victors Village. She washes her sandy feet off with an unused tap closer to the iron gates of the Victors Village and then steps onto asphalt that burns the soles of her feet.

She thinks nothing of it even when her toes begin to blister in the shower.

Finnick is fast asleep on the couch when she comes down the stairs. She reaches out and rouses him with a hand to his shoulder.

"Come on", she says as he blinks himself awake, "We've got to meet the others."

Finnick sits up slowly, sighing groggily. There's red mark on the side of his face that was pressed up against the pillow. He looks dishevelled and exhausted. Neither of them have been sleeping well lately so Mari figures she looks something similar.

They make their way over to Annie's.

Marlin is there already, nursing a steaming cup of tea and leaning up against the kitchen counter. Annie is sitting by the kitchen island and tracing a pattern into the table. Finnick yawns and Mari sits across from Annie as they wait for Sam to arrive.

They don't do this often, get together as group, but it feels strangely empty without Mags. Mari keeps expecting to turn around and see her there, smiling her toothy smile and reminding them all that it's possible to be even a little bit happy. But she's not. Mari wonders what it would be like if Mags were still alive? Would Mags volunteer for her or Annie? Mari thinks she would, but Mari could never let her. She if any of them would have deserved to live in peace.

Things have been harder without her here.

Sam walks in only a few minutes after she and Finnick arrive. He has this dark frown on his face and doesn't look like he's slept a wink in days. Mari glances around and realises that they all look a little like that. Annie hasn't even brushed her hair, Finnick can't stop yawning and Marlin's knuckles are white around his mug.

"Right", Mari says as Sam joins them around the counter.

She's not sure how to say what she's trying to say really. _So, who wants to volunteer to die again_? She's made up her mind already anyway, it's just her and Annie. This is more to try to convince Finnick not to volunteer for Marlin and Sam (even though she knows she will).

"Well", Annie says quietly, tapping a finger against the counter, "I'll go in for you Mari". But her voice shakes and somewhere halfway through her sentence Mari can hear the hint of a hysterical sob. There's no way she can let her.

"Annie", Mari reaches out and puts a hand on hers, "You can't volunteer for me."

Annie's eyes get wide, "Mari", she breathes.

"Please", Mari whispers, "Let me."

Annie looks back down at the counter but doesn't reply.

The room is silent for a few seconds. Mari knew she would go in for Annie the moment the Quarter Quell was announced so this doesn't come as much of a shock to anyone but Annie. It's just a matter of ensuring that Annie doesn't decide to volunteer for her.

"Fuck me", Marlin sighs, he stands up, setting his mug on the counter, "Look", he says, voice growing loud, "I've got fucking _kids_. My wife is _pregnant_. I can't go and leave them on the streets."

Mari quirks an eyebrow up at him.

It's a complicated issue. Because of course Sam and Marlin have kids, they never anticipated this; but it doesn't mean that Finnick's life means any less than theirs, or at least in Mari's eyes. And _sure_ , Mari has always known Finnick would volunteer for them, she can't imagine him letting them go in, but she at least expected them to be a little less straightforward about it. A bit more grateful than this.

"So do I", Sam says angrily, "What the fuck are you saying? You'd rather my kids be fatherless than yours?"

Marlin narrows his eyes, "I think we all know what the option is."

He gives this pointed look at Finnick and Mari isn't sure is she's ever felt angrier in her life. "Excuse me", Mari says incredulously, "Are you fucking serious right now? Are you seriously choosing Finnick to die for you? Fuck off."

Marlin gets this awful look in his eyes, dark and threatening and Mari is suddenly reminded that they've all killed before. He's about to spit something at her, poisonous and vitriolic, but Finnick cuts them both off.

"Stop", Finnick says firmly, a grave expression on his face, "They're right", he says to Mari. He turns to Sam and Marlin, "I will volunteer for either of you if you're picked."

Sam sighs in relief, "Okay", he moves away from the island, "I think we're done here". He sets a hand on Finnick's shoulder, "Thank you. My family won't forget this."

Marlin stops next to Mari on his way out with a disapproving shake of his head, "I would die for my children", he says, staring down at her, "But I am not going to leave them if there's another option for us."

Mari looks away from him.

He leaves the room with only a nod toward Finnick. The front door clicks shut behind him. Mari sets her head in her hands.

"Mari", Finnick says, an edge of disappointment to his voice,

"I know", she sighs, "I _know_. But they gave you up so easily, they could've at least acted like it was slightly difficult."

"I think they reserve the right to be selfish", Finnick touches her arm, "They have families that won't survive without them."

Mari scrunches her nose. She's mad despite herself. She understands that this was the only option but still, knowing what is going to happen, knowing that Finnick will go in with her, hurts more than she had anticipated. Facing that is difficult.

"I'm just angry", she finally says, "It's unfair."

Finnick says nothing.

Annie finally breaks her gaze from a spot on the counter, "I don't want to talk about this", she says, "Can we- can we-", she clamps a hand over her mouth, muffling a cry.

Mari frowns. She wishes she could console Annie, say something to make it all better. But the reality is that she and Finnick are probably going to die and if by some insane chance a miracle happens then only one of them is going to come back. Nothing is going to make Annie feel better, they can only try to make the best out of what time they have left.

Annie shakes her head, letting her hand slide from her mouth, "I'm sorry. I've got to leave". She hurries off into the other room, footsteps heavy with anxiety, leaving Mari and Finnick alone. Mari feels a wave of guilt wash over her, digging for something she could have said to undo Annie's worry.

"Come on", Finnick says softly.

Mari bites her lip and they go back home.

Mari goes straight up to their room, settling on top of the covers and folding her legs underneath her. Finnick spreads out at the other end of the bed as Mari rubs a fraying blanket in between her fingers.

She lets the feelings she had felt this morning settle in. How close was she to death? How easily could she have done it? She looks at Finnick and feels like crying. She has to pinch her nose to stop the swell of tears that threaten to pool in her eyes.

She breathes in and lets the air coming in through the window flood her lungs. It slides out on the exhale. The sudden intake makes her feel lightheaded. She leans back into the pillows, the emotional fatigue of the day sinking in.

"Mari", Finnick says in that soft way he usually says her name, "We have to talk about what this means."

Mari shuts her eyes, "Yeah", she breathes.

She opens her eyes again to watch Finnick come to lay next to her. He coordinates long limbs and rests his head on his pillow. Mari tilts her head and gazes down at him. To make it equal she slides down a little, not quite face to face with him but almost.

"I wish you weren't going in", he says, and Mari has to pinch her nose again.

"I wish _you_ weren't going in", Mari replies, "You have more options than I do."

Finnick frowns sadly, "You know I don't."

Mari looks away. She does not want to get into this again, what is done is done.

"Neither do I".

Finnick nods in agreement. He knows as well as her that Annie would have no chance.

Mari wets her lip, "I can't let you go in alone. It would kill me. Sitting around in the Capitol watching you fight would drive me fucking insane. I just- I need to be with you in there, out here, all the time... We're in this together or not at all."

She stops her shuddering breath short; her chest constricts suddenly.

Finnick scrunches his nose and eyes shut for a moment before speaking in a slightly wobbly voice, "What would you do if I died?"

At that Mari can't hold the shuddering breath in, it breaks free and she has to clamp her hand over her mouth just like Annie to stop from dissolving into a sobbing fit. It is an awful thing to hear out loud, especially from Finnick's own mouth. _What would she do if he died?_ She cannot even begin to think, though she knows it is a rapidly approaching reality. (She has always hoped that she would die first).

She shakes her head, "I don't know", she manages.

"You can't give up", he reaches for her hand and squeezes. Mari slides down further, face to face with him now. "You can't", he says again.

She nods but it's not enough for him.

"Please", he pleads, "I know you. I know it'll seem pointless to go on if anything happens to me, but you have to. For Annie at least. For _me_."

He's right, she hates it, but he's right.

"Okay", she says, "I'll try". She looks him right in the eye and shakes her head, "Don't die on me though... _please_."

He laughs something cynical and sad, "I'll do my best."

"Promise?", Mari extends her little finger.

Finnick latches his around hers, "Promise."

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 **FROM THAT DAY FORWARD** , Mari and Finnick prepare for the Quarter Quell the best that they can.

When the weather is right, they spend hours in the ocean, swimming against the waves, out as far as they can go. Mari doesn't anticipate water in the arena, that would put her and Finnick at an unfair advantage, so they focus on building their strength instead of speed. They spend the rest of their time spearfishing, handling long kitchen knives and sparring as to not arouse the suspicion of any Peacekeepers.

Mari dread to think of what would happen if the Peacekeepers found out what they were doing, preparing for the Games in any way is highly illegal. Even though Mari has no doubt there are Victors doing the same all over Panem.

Sometimes Mari will slip down to the docks and spend hours gutting fish for Kai. It's different this time, handling the knife and relearning the precision it takes to use it on a human target. It makes her nauseous, but she reminds herself where to stab if someone gets close enough; spinal cord, carotid artery, axillary artery, lung, gut, liver, back of the knee. Something her father taught her the first year she was old enough to be reaped. Before he died.

It has been difficult, remembering how to kill.

But it has always come too easy to Mari.

She knows too well what parts of the body are vulnerable, born out of a natural curiosity about her father's profession and his insistence that she be prepared lest she get reaped. She is nimble and strong from years of ballet she will never be able to forget, the muscle memories that won't go away no matter how long she goes without practicing. Most all she is angry, deep under the surface, where it simmers toward a steady boil. She is angry and she is desperate to stay alive.

That is what got her through her weeks in the Desert. Anger and desperation. Not her strength, not her resourcefulness, not her knowledge. Just an unbridled desire to stay the fuck alive. To get home and live her life.

Though she has contemplated how worth it that all was. Was it wise to fight, to live? Likely not. But she has not regretted her decision, not really. No matter how much she has grown to hate parts of her life after the Games. No matter the guilt that comes with winning, she will always be glad that she clawed her way to the end.

It's pride, it's hubris.

She realises that all of a sudden on her way back home from the docks.

She _won_. She could have died dozens of times over, but whether it be because of luck or skill – she _won_. She won and other people did not. There is something to be said about guilt and regret, Mari is well acquainted with both, but at the end of the day the odds were in Mari's favour and she capitalised on those odds to win.

She does not like to consider herself a killer, but there has always been a quiet lethality about her even before she found herself murdering children to survive.

She is dangerous like anyone else.

Like Finnick, like Johanna, like so many Victors.

She forgets that, she forgets what she is capable of if she lets herself be.

Mari clenches her fist, digs her nails into her palm and squeezes her way through the gap in the iron gates. Finnick waiting for her in the living room, the screen in front of him lit up with the 50th Hunger Game on pause, he's scribbling something into a notebook on his lap. His finger hovers over the remote.

Mari sighs, "Can we turn that off tonight? I've had enough of watching people die."

Finnick looks up and sets his pen in between the pages, "Yeah", he says, "Of course". He moves his finger up the remote and the screen goes out with a soft click.

"Thanks", Mari manages to lift the corner of her lips.

She sits next to him on the couch and stares at the spot where the holographic screen was only a few seconds ago. She wonders if Haymitch knew about this, knew about the Quarter Quell. The pebble he gave her and Finnick sits heavy up in her bedside drawer. She thinks about it often. She is constantly wondering if now is the moment he meant when he said she would know when. But if it had been, she would have no way of knowing. Besides, how could he know about what the Quarter Quell had in store for them all? What would it mean if he did know? She doesn't want to dwell on that, doesn't want to hope.

"You hungry?", Finnick asks.

Mari blinks away her thoughts, tries to put everything at bay so she can have an almost normal evening for once.

"Oh", she ponders it, "Not really."

Finnick shrugs, he slinks off the couch to throw something together in the kitchen.

She watches him from the couch.

She pushes the what-ifs from her head and tries to remember what its like to be around Finnick without worrying that he is going to die. She is so often worried about him that it is difficult for a long moment. A soft, _real_ smile passes over her face.

His back muscles shift under his shirt as he pulls things from the cupboard, setting them on the bench. A hand through his hair. Sneaking an extra piece of bread. Turning his head to check if she's looking. When he realises, she is he shoves the last few bites of bread into his already full mouth and tells her to shut up.

She laughs.

His eyes twinkle.

The sandwich flops sideways in his hand as he approaches her, teasing smile on his face, "You're staring", he taunts, waving the sandwich at her.

She rolls her eyes jokingly, "You're dropping crumbs", her eyes dart to the ground, "That's how people get ants, Finn."

Finnick just does his best approximation of a smirk through his mouthful of bread and butter. It's charming, nevertheless. _He's_ charming, nevertheless. She can't imagine a scenario in which he would not be... for lack of a better word... appealing to her. She's sure there are plenty of his Capitol admirers that would be dissuaded by his eating habits, what he smells like when he hasn't showered in too long, the way he looks after spending all day out in the garden. Sure, there are some that would eat that shit up. But at least Mari gets it all to herself. Get _him_ all to herself.

That's it really. They never get _him_. Always an approximation of him, or even something completely different. The person he pretends to be for them, never who he truly is. She is not afraid to be selfish in that regard. She does not feel guilty for revelling in the fact that he is hers alone. Because he is, and she knows it just as well as he does. They are each other's _person_.

It had taken time most of all, but she is no longer concerned that Finnick is going to high tail it the moment that someone threatens them or her safety. She is no longer concerned that he will leave her for someone better and different. Regardless, there is no time for that now. This is it. These are the last months they have together if the Quarter Quell goes as it is meant to. Mari will not squander those months, worrying and fretting over things that are not going to matter when she bleeds out in that arena.

All that matters is what happens now, while they still have the chance.


	20. nobody warns you before the fall

**MARI WAKES UP ONE MORNING** and realises that her chest squeezes every time she looks at Finnick. The sun filters in through the open window, balmy summer breeze rustling the curtains; Mari brushes choppy hair off her shoulders and clutches the sheets in her fist. Finnick snores softly next to her, unbothered as always by the sun and the noise of her waking up. She looks down at his face pressed up against the pillow, hair all out of place, and her heart literally clenches with fondness.

She spares herself a private smile but otherwise pushes it out of her mind and gets up to get ready for the day ahead of her.

The feeling doesn't go away.

Not when Finnick finally wakes up and finds her in the back-garden wrist deep in the roots of plants that will be left to wither when she dies in the Games. He walks onto the back deck, squinting in the sun, drawing a hand up to cover his eyes. Her heart squeezes again at the sight of him. It's affection too, she realises.

He smiles sleepily at her.

She pulls her hands from the dirt and cleans her nails under the tap.

"Morning", she manages.

"Hi", he replies.

Something, inexplicable and overwhelming swells in her chest and she has to fight the urge to return his hearty grin. He lets his hand drop from his eyes, and he goes back inside. The screen door clatters shut behind him.

Later, when Finnick is sufficiently awake, they go down the to beach. Considering the circumstances, considering the fact that it is only a matter of days until they go back to the Capitol, they are in surprisingly good spirits. There is of course an undertone of worry, but they have both decided that if these are their last days in District Four then they are not going to squander them.

Mari gives Finnick a playful shove toward the water and then tears off across the hot sand. Finnick yells something at her retreating form and then races after her. It doesn't take all too long for him to gain on her, though she has always been faster than him, especially in sand. She looks back at him and can't help but laugh. She reminds herself that she is allowed a little bit of joy, even now. Especially now.

She reaches the rock pools and comes to a grinding stop. Finnick all but hurtles into her. He takes the air out of her and sends her to the ground. She lands with a firm thud against the wet sand, he lands with one of his arms trapped underneath her torso, the rest of him splayed out on the beach.

"Fuck", she grunts, but there's still a laugh coiled up behind it, "That _hurt_."

He grins, wiggling his arm out from underneath her, "Sorry."

She doubles down and uses her feet to press her body further onto his arm. He wiggles his hand helpless on the other side of her torso. The feeling gathers in her chest again as he curses her and laughs and continues to pry his arm from under her. Eventually she relents and rolls off.

" _Finally_ ", he groans.

She sits back onto her heels, digging her fingers into the wet sand as Finnick hoists himself up. They sit there for a moment, looking at each other. The waves crash behind them and a few race up to tickle at Mari's toes, but she ignores them in favour of fliting between Finnick's eyes and lips and hands. Her breathing slows to a gentle rhythm as the thrum of her heart grows louder in her ears. The world and all its noise fades out behind her for a long second. Finnick uses his hands to move himself closer, leaving tracks in the sand. Something tingles all the way up her spine. It is all snapped back into motion when a seagull flies in between them with a squawk and a rustle of its feathers.

Mari jumps back right into the rising tide to avoid it.

She laughs gently.

She gets up and trudges into the water, dragging her feet through the waves until the water is deep enough to float in. She turns around to dunk her head under and sees Finnick following her in. She resurfaces and he's just a few meters from her in the salty ocean, hair sticking to his forehead. She gathers her too long hair behind her and onto her neck, then pushes back into the part of the water where her feet can't touch the ground anymore.

He wades next to her in the calm sea and she can't quite put a finger on the feeling that is roused in her when she looks at him. Fondness and affection aren't incorrect, but there's something else that she can't quite pinpoint. Something more?

It's difficult to even know. She has been around him for so many years of her life, she can't even begin to describe what it is that they are exactly. Best friends doesn't quite cut it. He's certainly not a brother type either, that has never felt very right, never mind the fact that Bailey has ruined siblings for her. It's something else that Mari can't quite grasp yet, something that sits deep inside her that she can't name.

It bothers her for a few days.

Sometimes she just stares at him and tries to figure it out.

Tries to pinpoint why he makes her feel like her heart is in a vice.

It's late one-night, dirty dishes are strewn about the table and the outside reaches into their home. Front and back doors are open to let the warm night-time air drift through the house, Mari can hear the gentle crash of the waves on the beach and the streetlamps cast soft shadows in through the open windows. Finnick sits across from her, feet propped up on the table. He smiles at her with a small tilt of the head.

She realises then.

Slowly then all at once it comes crashing over her.

It's _love_.

The swell in her chest, the squeeze of her heart is affection and fondness and love all bundled into one. It is glaringly obvious when it has dawned on her, finally, _finally_. Why has she not realised it all these years? She blinks slowly a few times, tearing her eyes from his face if only to collect her thoughts, to acclimatise this information.

She is convinced of it fully the second it settles.

It is strange she had not known it before. With how close they have been for their entire lives, with the jealously she has felt, how it's like she is missing a limb when he is gone, and the desperation when she thought he would never speak to her again. It is so _obvious_ now that it is staring her right in the face.

Mari takes a long draw of the whiskey she has been nursing for the past hour. Her head feels light as she swallows it down, there is no way that she is drunk now, not with just one drink spaced out over a whole night. Regardless she feels, even just a little, like she is moving through molasses. The tips of her fingers buzz.

Realising that she loves him doesn't worry her much.

It puts an ache in her chest, but it doesn't worry her.

She has loved him always but has never put the words to it. That certain declaration has always felt too far, and when it became something that she understood it was too risky too speak aloud. Considering Finnick's obligations. So instead it was squashed down and forgotten, only to arise again at the most inopportune moment. Though really, what have they got to lose? What would Snow be able to do to them that he has not already done?

Mari loves Annie, Mari loves Bailey, Mari loved Mags.

It seems frivolous that she has not put that word to Finnick yet.

She tries not to regret all the time that it has been left unthought. Because she is not sure that it ever needed to be said, they have both known it for so long. It is just not something they speak aloud, rather something that they know deep in their bones.

Something _she_ knows deep in her bones at least.

She lets her eyes fall back onto his face.

She could so easily let herself be overwhelmed by his lovers in the Capitol, his ravenous and adoring fans that stake claim on him and steal him away from her; let herself be consumed by jealously and resentment. But that would be unfair, to both Finnick and herself. Has she not been reassured in the past that they are not a threat to her? That Finnick would choose her over any of them in a single heartbeat.

Does he not deserve that? Deserve to love without Snow's horrors ruining it for him?

He has suffered enough.

She takes this long breath in through her nose then out through her mouth. She can't stop staring at him, nor he at her.

He blinks slow, "Mari", he says gently.

Her heartbeat quickens. _Thump-thump thump-thump,_ is loud in her ears.

"Yes", she replies.

She forgets for a quick moment that he is not in her head and does not know the revelation that she has just had. But the butterflies that have already erupted at the sound of his voice will not go away no matter how hard she wills them to.

He opens his mouth to say something but shuts it a moment later with an amused shake of his head.

Mari presses forward, "No", she says, "What is it?"

He looks at her for a moment, and then sighs, "Can I ask you something?", he asks.

"Of course", she says softly.

He tips his head back to look at the ceiling, taking a deep breath in.

"I've been thinking", he tells her, letting his head drop down so he can peer at her again, candlelight flickering in his green eyes, "We've been close for almost all our lives and, if everything goes as it should, we don't have a lot of time left together. Do you ever-", he shakes his head again, like he is worried to say whatever it is he's trying to tell her, "I don't know. Do you ever think we could be something more than this?". His last sentence comes out all in an uncharacteristic rush of breath and it takes her a few moments to even understand what it is he means.

She blinks.

"Something more?", she asks.

He nods, "Something more", he says, more resolutely than last time. Like he is more convinced of it now that he has said it aloud.

Something buzzes underneath her skin, all the way from her fingertips to the back of her neck and up into her head. For a moment, the phrase _something more_ bounces around her head over and over. She takes a breath in, holding it for a second and looks anywhere that isn't right at his face. Her eyelids flutter and she can't do anything to help the hint of a smile, or smirk, that creeps onto her face.

"I think", she says slowly, gently, turning to look at him, "-that that has been a long time coming, Finnick."

" _Mmm_ ", he agrees through a grin that he can barely restrain.

Her chest grows suddenly tight with affection, so overwhelming that she almost wants to cry. It's certainly a struggle to stop herself from doing so.

"Can you come here?", he asks, reaching his arm out to her across the table.

She raises an eyebrow but comes around regardless.

He pushes his chair back, legs propped up against the middle beam underneath the table. He reaches out and grabs her hand where it dangles by her hip, his head tilted back to look up at her. It feels strange but normal all at once.

'Kiss me', he mouths followed by a lazy grin.

Mari rolls her eyes but can't deny that it makes her smile bigger than she has in a long while. The descent feels so foreign, so weird. She doesn't have to bend down much to reach him, he has always towered over her, but he's low down enough that she has to bend her knees. When she's close enough he lets her hand drop from his and place it gently against her cheek.

She touches her forehead with his, the tips of their noses press against lightly each other, blue eyes meet green. Mari blinks a few times, moving a hand to rest against the armrest of the chair and the other gently against his neck. He presses forward lightly, urging her to kiss him, but she pulls back a fraction. She hears his breath hitch.

"Be patient", she whispers, tapping a finger against his neck.

"Hurry up", he whispers back.

When she looks his pupils are blown wide, black encompassing the muted green. She imagines hers are much the same.

Mari breathes out softly and lets the tip of her nose slide down the side of Finnick's. He tilts up to reach her, pulling her forward with his hand on her cheek. His lips reach hers first, soft and pliant against her own. Her mouth stretches into a smile almost straight away, but she fights it to return her mouth to his. Her eyes flutter shut, and she presses forward into him. Her mouth is halfway closed, up against his for a few still seconds as they grow used to each other.

Something like an electric shock jolts through her and her skin feels burning hot as his hand glides around to the back of her neck.

Mari moves her hand up to rest just below his jaw. She tilts her chin upward to slide her lips against his, then sideways a little. Her lips part slightly, slotting into his. He hums contentedly and it sends shivers down her spine. Then she brushes her tongue across his bottom lip which sits between hers. He urges her closer.

Mari smiles again.

She pulls her mouth from his but keeps their foreheads touching.

It takes him a moment to open his eyes again.

"Huh", is all he manages.

" _Huh_ ", she repeats with a laugh.

He nods against her forehead, a fond smile on his lips.

Then he surges forward to press another kiss to her mouth, it's more of a peck than anything else. Firm and whole. She lets her hand fall from his face, resting them on the arms of the chair. She laughs despite herself, momentary joy spilling from her.

The whole situation is absurd, she cannot deny that.

Finnick's hand slides from her neck, trailing down the side of her arm to cover one of her hands gripped over the armrest. Mari looks down and smiles.

Warmth fills her, from her toes to the tip of her head. No doubt a pink blush spreads itself across her cheeks.

"Weird, isn't it", she says, dropping her forehead to his again.

He trails his free hand to the hair at the back of Mari's neck and nods, "I guess", he pauses, "I think I've wanted to do this for a long time though."

Mari hums and then kisses him again, slow and deliberate. She lets her tongue slip past his mouth, it pushes against his as he rises to meet her. His hand on her neck pulls her into him until he ends up standing, she has to lift herself onto the tips of her toes to reach him. A shiver runs through her as his hand ends up at her waist. She wraps her arms around the back of his neck and accidentally sighs into his mouth as he tilts her head back ever so slightly to deepen the kiss.

He chuckles against her mouth.

Flustered and foggy she pulls back to rest her head against his warm chest. She pulls in a shaky breath and presses her face further into his t-shirt. He winds his hands around her back and pulls her into a hug that feels like every other hug he has given her only better. Better because they should have done this a long time ago.

"It's late", she mutters, "We should probably head to bed."

" _Mmm_ ", Finnick presses a kiss to the top of her head, "As long as you let me kiss you again."

Mari laughs, "Don't worry", she says, "You're not allowed to stop."

For that night Mari lets herself forget their circumstances as much as is possible. Lets herself live in an evening suspended in time, where she doesn't have to think about what is to come. Where she can let herself finally have something that she has denied herself for so long; where she can be happy and contented even if it's only fleeting. They will deal with what is to come when it comes, for now this is enough.

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**THE REAPING IS TWO DAYS LATER.**

Finnick drags himself out of bed just as the sun rises, planting a sloppy kiss to Mari's lips. He's under strict instructions from Evey, courtesy of her call late last night, to look his very best. He spends too long in the bathroom putting himself together as Mari slowly blinks herself awake. Once he's out of the shower Mari trudges from bed, throws on a white dress that reminds her of seafoam and runs a brush through choppy hair that Finnick had cut for her yesterday to spite Evey and Burch.

He comes out of the bathroom in a button up shirt that hangs open to reveal his toned chest. Mari is too busy focusing on keeping last nights dinner down to comment on it. He pulls her into his arms and presses a firm kiss to her hair.

"I wish I could spend forever with you", he says.

And she wants to crumble right there. Breakdown and cry until there are no tears left. Because how the fuck is this fair? They've won already, they're supposed to be left alone, they're supposed to be allowed to be happy. This what they get for doing what Snow wanted, they get to go back in and die for sick entertainment value.

Mari sighs, "I wish it weren't like this".

But it is, and they have to face it.

Someone bangs on their front door not long after and they are piled into a car with the others. Mari clutches onto Annie as she cries into her dress, it leaves a big wet mark on the white fabric, but Mari can't bring herself to care. Rows and rows of District citizens watch their car pass as it takes them up to the stage in front of the Town Hall. They're all ushered out up onto the stage by Peacekeepers, they surround them in an impenetrable wall, ensuring none of them run off; though that would be as much of a death sentence as making it all the way up those stairs is.

She forces Finnick's hand from hers when they're in the view of cameras. They've not decided what they're doing about ahis voracious fans just yet, she wants to be safe. Regardless, she and Annie are forced to the opposite side of the stage.

Burch gives them this beaming smile from the middle of the stage that makes her feel sick to the stomach. He's all dressed in this blue seashell monstrosity.

Mari doesn't stop the scowl that forms on her face.

She clutches Annie's hand next to her and tries not to look out at the sea of faces. Pity is not a luxury she can afford herself. Regardless of her efforts she still sees Bailey, buried in the crowd but unmistakeable in his height and her own eyes looking right back at her. He looks sad more than anything, there might be regret somewhere in his eyes, but Mari isn't sure what to make of that.

They are too far past regret now.

Mari looks away.

Everything blurs into one as it usually does when the Capitol anthem starts playing and the stupid film, they play every year begins on the screens above them. Mari's heart begins to throb in her ears, the rush of blood drowning out every other sound.

She makes eye contact with Finnick across the stage.

Eventually, eventually, Burch is back at the microphone and spouting some nonsense he has been fed. She blinks and his hand is hovering over the glass bowl, two folded cards side by side. It plunges in and he pulls out a card as Mari's heart beats out of her chest.

"...Annie Cresta", Burch says leaning into the microphone all too cheerfully.

Annie lets out this inhuman cry that sends chills down her spine.

Mari wastes no time stepping forward, "I volunteer", she says even though it is impossibly hard to say.

She lets her feet move without her permission as she stomps toward Burch, she snatches the paper with Annie's name on it from his hand and takes her spot to his left. Her hand forms into a fist around the card, she's sure her anger shows all over her face. Burch says something to save face and then announces _Marina Fischer_ as the female tribute for the 75th Hunger Games.

When the male victor is called, Finnick doesn't even get a chance to volunteer for Sam or Marlin. He smiles charmingly as Burch calls his name, strolling forward to take his spot next to Mari. She is not sure how he does it, how he keeps his composure. She was a whimpering mess when she was picked so many years ago, and now she is just angry. But she has never been very good at hiding her emotions.

What is the point now?

This is what she has left. Her anger, her fury.

If nothing else she will let them know that.


	21. i don't like anyone better than you

**A SWARM OF PEACEKEEPERS** surround her as she and Finnick are rushed from the stage. They're led through the doors to the Town Hall in all too much of a hurry. The Peacekeeper has a squeezing grip on her arm as he hustles her right past the visiting rooms toward the train station.

"We're supposed to say goodbye", Mari struggles, trying to pull her arm from his hand but his gloves are dug tight into her flesh.

He looks at her with disdain, "Not this year", he says gruffly, forcing her onto the train with a sharp shove, "Get on".

Rage spills down around her shoulders as she whirls around to face him. He gives her this awful smile and she's about to launch herself at him just as the metal door in front of her slides shut. Finnick puts one hand on her shoulder before she hurts herself trying to do something stupid like pry the door open with her bare hands.

"Let it go", Finnick says, "There's nothing we can do."

Mari stares at the cold metal and takes a slow deep breath in through her nose.

"Fine", she says, teeth clenched.

She can't help but think of Annie having to go home all alone, knowing she doesn't have it in her to spend time in the Capitol. Even Bailey, who she hasn't talked to in weeks, she would at least have liked to say goodbye. It would have been nice to say goodbye to anyone who was willing. But Finnick is right, she needs to let it go. They're on the train now, there's nothing they can do.

Mari turns around and Finnick's hand slips to her forearm, gently stroking the spot where the Peacekeeper had squeezed it so hard. She anticipates a bruise, though she can't bring herself to care. Acknowledging physical pain is not a luxury she can afford any longer, regardless it will blend into nothing once training starts tomorrow.

She plants a gentle kiss to the corner of Finnick's mouth and brushes past him, further onto the train. Sunlight filters its way into the cabin as the train begins to slide across its tracks. It pulls away from the station and plunges into a forest of mangroves whose leaves brush against the window, filtering the light with lacy patterns that cast across the floor.

Burch is already poised in front of a stretching table of food, taking long drags of bubbling champagne. He drops his half-empty glass to the table and gives them a cloying smile. His outfit looks even more ridiculous close up, a glittering navy-blue suit dotted with shells that looked glued on, like the art they used to do in their younger years at school. Sticking seashells they collected on the shores to pieces of bark and driftwood. The sight makes her sick, she has a fleeting thought to lurch forward, wrap her hands around Burch's neck and squeeze. And then she doesn't feel so ill over Burch's suit anymore, only over the rage-filled girl that is slowly coming awake inside of her.

"Come, come", Burch beckons them to the table, "Sit, eat."

Mari slides into the seat next to Finnick when her brain finally makes it way out of the fog and catches up with what is happening in front of her.

"Oh my", Burch croons, leaning forward. His bug-eyes are startlingly wide, his pupils are blown; it makes him look freakish and crazed. Mari has no doubt he is intoxicated, whether it be from alcohol or something else, "I'm _so_ glad you two are here", he says, voice pitched too high to be natural. He does this ridiculous little clap.

Mari wonders how he was ever tolerable to her. Her heart begins to thrum in her ears again, like it has been so frequently. _Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump_. She clenches her jaw and picks a single olive from a bowl, she pops it past her lips despite herself, and the act of using her teeth and tongue to extricate the pit distracts her from openly scowling.

Burch tips his drink down his throat and then squeals like he can't contain his excitement, " _Gah_ ", he sighs, "Such a shame that little Annie hasn't come along. Though I suppose I'll see her next year. Permitting."

Mari shuts her eyes to stop herself from doing anything she'll regret as Burch continues talking. Even Finnick tenses next to her, which makes her feel a little better about all the rage rushing through her. Like, _fuck_. She never did like Burch all that much, but it's almost insulting to see his total lack of humanity right now. Not that she should be particularly surprised considering how _involved_ he is in all this. How much of an active part he is in sending children to their deaths every year. Why should she and Finnick be any different? She's sure all of this thrills him.

She briefly wonders how Evey will take it.

She pushes that from her mind as quickly as it had entered, she has no room to think of others, especially not people like Evey whose pity is only a result of their guilt.

Mari spits the olive pit into her the palm of her hand and Burch frowns.

"Marina- -"

"Don't call me that", Mari is scowling before she can stop herself.

Burch raises an eyebrow, indignant. He looks frantically between her and Finnick, blinking like her rudeness simply wont compute in his brain. He seems to ask Finnick wordlessly for an explanation, " _Wh_ -what is wrong with you two?", he demands. Mari feels him stomp his foot under the table, "Are you not glad to be here?"

This time it's Finnick who scoffs, his chair slides from the table with a loud scrape and he leaves the room. The door to the sleeping carriage hisses shut behind him. Mari doesn't Burch even start to say anything in response before she's through the door, trying to catch up with Finnick. It's satisfying to know that she is not alone in her outrage, they've not got anything to lose, why hide it now? What would be the point in staying silent? What can they do to them that they haven't already?

She has to think of Annie of course, but there are boundaries she can still push.

She follows Finnick wordlessly into one of the rooms, taking a seat on the bed once the door is shut behind them, away from prying eyes. He sits next to her, leaning his forehead on her shoulder, she puts an arm around his back.

"Sorry", he mutters.

"Why?", she asks, rubbing circles into his back absently.

He shakes his head, "I dunno. We were supposed to be safe."

Mari sighs, using her arm to tug him slightly closer, "That's not your fault."

"Maybe if I knew", he says weakly, "Maybe- -"

"Maybe nothing", Mari stops him, "There's nothing we could have done even if you did know. It's too late, all we can do is try."

He nods but Mari still feels a tear or two as they drop onto her dress.

All her anger and rage from before has dissipated, and all she wants to do is lift his head and kiss him until they don't feel like shit anymore. She's not sure if she should, there's no way to know who's watching them. She wouldn't put it past the Capitol, past Snow to put cameras or microphones in their room. She worries what the consequences of actually properly kissing him here would be. She's not about to risk it before they're even at the Capitol. He's here in her arms, there's that at least.

Eventually, when they're through the mangroves and out onto train tracks that run along a beach overgrown with grass and piled high with sand dunes, Finnick takes his head off her shoulder and they press up against each other at the top of the bed.

Like they have so many years before, Mari switches on the screen in front of them and they start watching recaps of that days Reapings. She lets them all blur into one another, familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. Until Johanna, which hits her in the gut like a punch. She doesn't know any of the other Victors quite like she knows Johanna Mason. Johanna whose rage bubbles just under the surface, Johanna who would take the Capitol down brick by brick if she only had the means.

Then people she recognises and more people that she doesn't.

Then Katniss Everdeen and almost Haymitch, until Peeta Mellark volunteers for him all doe-eyed and full of longing for the girl standing next to him. She doesn't blame him really; she has done the same for Finnick and he for her. Though Mari finds it difficult to believe that Katniss feels the same for Peeta, her smiles never reach her eyes.

It is difficult not to let it all mount on her shoulders until is unbearable. Looking at all these faces and knowing they are nothing but an obstacle for her. She will have to kill some of them, even if only one or two, with her own hands; and if she does not it will mean death. This could very well mean the end of her life. Dead before she even hits twenty-five - - but _that_ depends on how long the Games last.

She tries not to think about her birthday.

By the time they're through Caesar Flickerman's whole program, complete with recaps of every Victors' Games and comprehensive commentary, the sun has set outside the window. Mari's stomach grumbles from lack of food - - the only thing she'd eaten today was that olive. She wouldn't quite call that eating though, more just distracting from all the anger she has.

Eventually, reluctantly, she and Finnick emerge from their room to the dining carriage. Mari is pleased to find it empty of people but full of food. There are even more dishes on the long table now than there were this morning. A whole roast chicken sits in the centre, already carved up by Avox that disappeared down hallways long ago. As much as she feels guilt for all the food they're offered and how much of it will go to waste as people in the Districts starve; Mari cannot quite bring herself to pass up chicken. It's rare to find in District Four where they subsist off seafood and as many fruit and vegetables as they can import.

She accidentally piles more than she will eat onto her plate and adds a helping of vegetables covered in a creamy sauce alongside it. She's about to dig in, halfway content for the first time that day, when one of the sliding doors hisses open and Burch makes his way in. Mari doesn't let it stop her from eating but her mood is already soured from his presence, she and Finnick exchange a look.

Burch huffs at the sight of them and takes a pointed seat across from them.

They eat in silence for fifteen awkward minutes until Burch can't stand it anymore.

"So", he says cheerfully, placing his hands on the table, "I think we should get started on going over the Reapings once we're all finished up here."

Mari, halfway through a mouthful of food, glances at Finnick.

Finnick finishes his food and sets his fork by the side of his plate, "Well", he says, "Mari and I have already done that."

Burch looks shocked and outraged almost immediately, blinking rapidly, he is flustered as he speak, "Okay- okay- we can start on former Games then."

Mari cocks her head and stares at him blankly. It is interesting to see how hard it is for him to assimilate their behaviour, their supposed deviance from the norm. How much does his life, his job, hinge on them _pretending_ he knows more than them? She realises rapidly that they do not need him, he is nothing, but a ceremonial stand in for the Capitol, a tool for surveillance and order. She and Finnick do not need his help for sponsors in the arena, they do half of that work usually; and _now_ with Finnick and all the people that love him in their own fabricated ways, they will have no need of Burch to accept gifts in the arena on their behalf. People will be falling over themselves to help him. Burch is disposable.

"We don't need your help", Mari says before she can stop it, sitting up straighter and staring him in the eyes curiously like she's a jungle cat about to devour its prey.

Burch's eyes widen again, "Pardon me?", he says like she will recant what she has said just because he's angry at her, like he has any real power.

"You heard me", Mari tells him, "We don't need your help."

Burch goes red in the face and splutters for a few short moments before he is stomping out of the room to a compartment Mari doesn't care to visit.

She and Finnick are left in silence, only broken when Finnick bursts into laughter. Relief floods her and she manages a sigh and a few half chuckles.

"I thought you were going to yell at me for that", Mari runs a hand over her face, laughing a little, "I couldn't help myself."

Finnick shakes his head, "No way, it's fine. You're right, we don't need him", he laughs again, "Shit, I thought he was going to explode. He was so mad."

"I know", Mari agrees, "I should do that more often."

She tries not to think about how soon, she will be dead.

Finnick looks at her with affection brimming in his gaze, a light smile on his lips, "You should smile more often", he says, "It's so pretty."

Mari cant help the blush that creeps up her cheeks, it still strange hearing him express his affection so openly (but again it has only been three days since they first kissed), "I don't often have a reason to smile."

It dampens the mood. Finnick's smile drops into something more pitying.

Mari purses her lips, "Sorry."

"It's ok."

They finish off the food on their plates, a heavy silence between them, and go back to their room before Burch decides to make a reappearance. Luckily, all the tension seems to dissipate as the door shuts behind them.

" _So_ ", Mari starts, cross-legged in front of Finnick, who is leant up against the headboard, she toys with the embroidery on her dress, "What are we going to do about-", she gestures between them, "- _this_."

" _This_?", Finnick raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

She shoves his leg, "You know what I mean. _Us_... During the Games, during the interviews, all of it."

He frowns and opens his arms for her, "Come here."

Mari sighs. She climbs up the bed, settling next to him. He closes his arms around her and drops his forehead to her head. Mari presses her face into his shoulder. They stay like that for a few moments until he kisses her. He tucks his fingers under her chin, tilts her mouth to meet his and kisses her - - slow and soft and gentle, like he is trying to mend her. Mari can't resist the urge to ease her fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

"I'm not going to get tired of that", she says when Finnick stops to take a breath.

He shuts his eyes and hums in agreement.

"So", Mari urges, pressing her forehead against his. She hates to ruin the moment with talk of their fast-approaching deaths, but she needs to know how important this is to him and what they're going to do if it is.

He lets out a long, tired breath, "Fuck them", he says quietly, "I don't care."

"Are you sure?", Mari asks nervously, the hand that's not wrapped around the back of Finnick's neck worries at her dress, "Because- because it could really hurt our chances."

Finnick shakes his head, "I don't care if it hurts our chances, as long as I get the spend the last weeks of my life with you."

_The last weeks of his life._

Mari shuts her eyes, "Don't say that."

He kisses her again, like he's trying take all the pain away.

"I love you", he whispers.

It hurts. Hearing him say it. Not because its not true, not because she can't say it back, but because Mari can practically count the amount of times, he will be able to say it before everything is over. They have so little time left and it makes Mari so _angry_.

"I love you too", she says.

And she tries so hard to let go of the anger, to let herself have this time with him unsullied by rage. But it won't, it is always there, thrumming under the surface.

When she sleeps, she dreams of putting a bullet in Snow's head.


	22. take this pink ribbon off my eyes

MARI WAKES UP THE NEXT MORNING TANGLED IN the bed sheets. Finnick's head is on her shoulder and she presses a kiss to his forehead just because she can. His eyes shift under his closed eyelids, but they don't open. Mari moves him gently as she tries to get the feeling back into her arm. He stirs slightly, but again doesn't wake.

Out the window Mari can see a vast mountain range that nearly eclipses the slowly rising sun. Beyond that is a city of towering buildings, fenced by a massive dam.

They're approaching the Capitol.

From the distance, Mari gives them roughly an hour. She shakes Finnick awake and hustles them into the dining car for food. Burch is nowhere to be seen and Mari is grateful for it, she wants to be rid of him until it's absolutely necessary. They've dealt with him for long enough as it is.

Despite her efforts, Mari can hardly get any food down. Every bite feels like it will choke her on its way down. Regardless, she tries. There likely won't be food available again until dinnertime tonight, and even if there is, she doubts that Evey will even let her have any.

The hour to the Capitol seems to stretch on infinitely, it makes her feel as if she is trapped in a chokehold she can't escape from. It doesn't let up until the train jolts to a stop at the station. The usually crowded platforms are empty of Capitol citizens when Mari glances out the window. Only a handful of Peacekeepers guard the entrances.

Burch reappears when Finnick and Mari are waiting for the steel doors to slide open and let them off. He hangs back in the room and deliberately huffs and doesn't make eye contact with them. Mari supposes she should be frustrated by that but all it brings is relief. She hates dealing with these people, they're cloying and fake and awful. It feels like a gift to be finally rid of one she has been stuck with for so long.

She grabs Finnick's forearm even though she really shouldn't as they're ushered through the platform and down familiar hallways. The flurry of activity around them, prep teams already ushering Victors around, running back and forth with various tools and balms and creams. The Peacekeeper escorting them unceremoniously dumps them in a prep room at the end of the hallway and slams the door shut. Burch would usually follow them in (as would the tributes, but there are none of those this year), but he disappeared somewhere before they got off the platform.

Mari makes a face at Finnick as she slips into one of the chairs in the room. He makes a face back. She's trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, but it's difficult because her worst nightmare is in fact happening all over again. She opens her mouth to say something, anything to break the silence, but the door is opening and Evey hurtles in with a new prep team in tow.

"Oh my god", Evey comes straight at Mari, pulling her into an awkward hug, she moves just as quickly over to Finnick for the same thing, "You guys."

She almost looks tearful for a moment and Mari almost– almost thinks she might start to cry or apologise. But she seems to pull herself together, she straightens her back and starts ordering the prep team around.

Before Mari knows it Evey has her in another chair and has one of her assistants helping to see the extensions into her hair. Finnick is across the room, being waxed to death as the other two assistants make googly-eyes at him. Mari is at least glad she can finally feel justifiably jealous.

Mari's head is jerked back as Evey tugs to tighten the braids. Mari hates it. The hair already sewn in cascades down her back, brushing over her shoulders. Every inch of it weighing down her head and touching her bare skin makes her want to scream, or throw up, or something else she doesn't want to think about. It's all she's thinking about on a loop as they sit in silence, only broken when Evey tells the prep team to do something.

Mari is relieved when the tugging and the pulling is finally done and she swaps places with Finnick. At least getting her leg hair ripped out wont make her feel ill.

"Oh my, how do you think everyone else will be dressed?", Evey asks, looking away from the TV up in the corner of the room, "I'm so excited to see what Cinna does with Katniss. But don't worry, I'll make sure you two steal the show, like always."

Mari has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. It's not particularly difficult when there's someone ripping hard wax off your leg and pulling hair out from the follicle with it. She likes Evey. Evey is at least more likeable than Burch is. They need her more too, she has a quantifiable role in their victory as opposed to Burch who is just some figurehead made to follow them around and act like he knows more than them.

It doesn't make Evey less annoying though. She's still from the Capitol and she still represents everything Mari has come to hate here.

"She looks so uncomfortable", Finnick says, gesturing up at the screen playing Katniss and Peeta at last years tribute parade, the exact thing they'll be arriving at in a few hours, "She's too prudish. It wont work this time around."

Mari wants to say that she thinks he's wrong, that she thinks Katniss has set something into motion that has captured the attention of the Capitol and the Districts alike. But she doesn't because they're in a room of Capitol loyalists and Mari knows how to keep her mouth shut. Finnick does too, so maybe what he's saying is all for their benefit too. It's easier for him to be what they want him to be, he slips into that role like Mari slips into the role of killer. They compliment each other like that.

For a while its just a frenzy of grooming and washing and creams and lotions and everything in between as Mari tries to curb her anxiety. Tries to forget that she went through this all so many years ago, that she was never supposed to have to go through it again– but she has so many times in so many different ways, and now for real.

Eventually, after what feels like at least a whole day, they're both being ushered into a different room to get dressed. Evey has them on opposite sides of the room, separated by partitions. It doesn't stop Mari or Finnick from walking out behind them as she tries to get them ready, but when else are they going to talk strategy?

At some point, while Finnick is getting makeup put on by a giggling member of the prep team, Evey has sequestered Mari behind the partition. She's helping Mari force on a mass of shimmering white-blue fabric and thin glittering rope over her head. It's a struggle of elbows and shoulders and takes a lot of moving around but within five minutes or so Evey is positioning it all in place and not letting Mari get a glimpse at herself.

"Okay", Evey says, "It's ready."

She puts her hands on Mari's shoulders and spins her around. Mari always hates looking at herself like this, made up in their image. It's nice for a moment but then the reality sinks in like jumping into ice cold water.

The dress is this elaborate mess of thin white rope with glittering shells and stones woven in, it sits across her bare shoulders and dips down her chest, its threaded around her torso and waist, stopping around her hips. It lays on top of draped white fabric that glints blue in the light. It's soft and sheer, and wraps tight around her breast and stomach, dropped to drape around her legs, leaving vast gaps from the top of her thighs down to her feet. A strong wind would probably expose her underwear, but Evey keeps it in place with a tape that sticks on both sides.

Mari's hair, long down to her waist and done in subtle waves, rests around her. The only thing missing is her makeup but that will come as Finnick is dressed.

Mari cant help the scowl.

It's beautiful sure, but it's all wrong.

"Thanks, Evey", she manages.

She comes out from behind the partition to send Finnick in. Finnick is released from the chair and sends a wink her way as she passes. She gives him this stern look that tells him to keep it the fuck together. She can practically hear him laugh at her.

Mari takes a seat in the chair, warm from Finnick's presence. That would usually gross her out if it were anyone else but it's Finnick so it brings her a marginal comfort. Then the person from the prep team, garish with their long eyelashes and purple tinted skin, is applying things all over her face and neck. And Mari is back to mild annoyance.

The thrum of anger that stays dormant in District Four is slowly returning. Not because of this person specifically, but because of the whole thing. The being here and the knowing what's going to happen. It's sitting just under the surface of her skin and threatening. Her fingers itch for the handle of a blade for the first time since she got here and she knows it's over, she knows that that Mari is back.

The Mari who is blinded by the pounding in her head the cut of flesh and the spill of blood.

She's here in this goddamn chair and they're plastering makeup all over her so people will remember that she's a killer. It feels all wrong. She is more a killer when there is grime underneath her nails and blood on her skin than when she is standing on a fucking chariot and being paraded through streets like a trophy.

She has more guts than almost anyone here.

(Though that begs the question as to why she stays still).

Evey pushes Finnick out from behind the partition just as her makeup is finished. Finnick is practically naked in a strategically knotted skirt, made of the same rope material as her dress has, only slightly thicker. She knows better than to blush, besides she's not sure she could right now.

"Nice skirt", Mari snorts.

Finnick winks again. She pinches him on the arm on the way over to the mirror to look at her makeup.

It completes the look to say the least. Her eyes are rimmed with soft brown eyeliner which is surrounded by shimmering blue the same colour as the fabric when it glints just right.

She doesn't like it.

Evey claps her hands, "Let's go."

Then they're off down the hallways and passages to the place where the tribute parade starts. Finnick grabs her hand as they walk, only letting go when the hallway starts to open up to a larger room.

Then he's off.

Moving around the room as people expect him to, talking to tributes and escorts alike.

Mari leaves Evey by their chariot and sets off to find Johanna. She's not difficult to locate, looking moody and dressed a little too much like bark off a tree.

"Wow", Mari laughs, waving a hand up and down her outfit, "Love this. Your stylist really outdid themselves."

Johanna nearly growls at her, "Fuck you, little Miss Sea Witch."

Mari is momentarily shocked to hear Johanna mention Sea Witches, a fable she thought they only told in District Four. Mari's school teacher used to tell them of women who lived in the ocean, had the bottom half of a fish and would drown sailors at sea. But Johanna is often smarter and more resourceful than Mari gives her credit for so Mari decides not to be surprised that she knows. She supposes Johanna is right too, her dress does sort of look like that.

"Calm down", Mari says, "It's good to see you."

Johanna looks angry under the surface but she manages something like a smile, "It's nice to see you too."

"Given the circumstances", Mari adds.

She's suddenly struck with the thought that she might have to kill Johanna if it comes down to it. She doesn't want to, in fact she would very much rather not. But if it came down to it Mari knows she would. She imagines herself, only for a second, snapping Johanna's neck. The thought makes her sick, but something dark swirls around underneath it. Something almost like delight. From just the look in Johanna's eye Mari knows she's thinking something similar. What's worse is that it doesn't scare her.

Maybe the name Sea Witch is more fitting than Mari had thought.

⠀⠀⠀

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/

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KATNISS EVERDEEN DOESN'T LIKE Finnick Odair the first time that she officially meets him. She thinks this is probably because she can't figure out what he wants. He's as confusing, if not more so, than the rest of them and Katniss hates it. She hates not being able to tell what their motives are. At least in the arena she'll know, but here, now it's beyond her.

Are they talking to her because they want her as an ally or because they want to claw her eyes out? They all wear masks so well, it's difficult to know.

Once Finnick leaves to descend upon some other unsuspecting tribute, his District partner Marina Fischer comes in his wake. She is there before Katniss can blink, and it worries her that she can barely hear Marina's feet upon the ground. Even in the heeled shoes.

She is dressed to mirror Finnick, her muscles are lean and strong under the rope and white fabric. The cascading blonde hair and soft makeup make her look less intimidating than her facial expressions betrays. Her mouth is set into a placid frown and her eyes are slightly hard at the edges, like something is making her angry.

Katniss remembers her Games.

There was not much of her broadcasted until near the end, when she started to kill. Katniss doesn't remember much, just caves and vast desert. But she remembers how Marina killed, like something come alive. Not like the careers, who took obvious delight in the whole thing, but like the act of injuring another, the act of killing made her feel awake.

Katniss is not sure how to reconcile that as she stares Marina in her big blue eyes.

"I'm Mari Fischer", she says, she juts her head at where Finnick had disappeared to, "Sorry about him, he really cant help himself."

Katniss nods slowly. Words feel stuck in her mouth.

"You look nice", Mari continues, casting a look at Katniss' outfit, it very much seems like Mari does not believe the words she is saying.

Though Katniss supposes that that is because Katniss is in all black and Mari is used to her blues and whites and purples.

"I don't feel nice", Katniss says because it just blurts out.

Mari shrugs, "I get it. It all feels dirty."

There seems to be more to Mari than Katniss had initially suspected. Too bad Katniss might have to kill her.

She is not sure what changes when that thought enters her head, perhaps something flits over her expression, perhaps she is scowling without noticing. But the moment it does, Mari expression goes cold. Her frown deepens and her eyes harden even further. An anger pulses behind her eyes. Foolishly, Katniss wonders is she can read her mind.

"Well", Mari says, it comes out more icy than anything before, "Good luck, I guess. See you in training."

She turns on her heel and is off toward her and Finnick's chariot before Katniss can say anything in response. The whole interaction leaves her with chills.

She watches Mari go, winding her way back to her chariot and stopping next to Finnick. Katniss is oblivious to many things, but it is clear that they are standing too close. Closer than they should be. She touches Finnick tenderly on the arm and Katniss wonders what it's all about.

Is she in love with him like the rest of the Capitol is? Is he in love with her? Katniss files it away.

Perhaps it will be useful.

⠀⠀⠀

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/

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MARI WANTS NOTHING MORE THAN TO GRAB ONTO FINNICK'S hand when they're up on the chariot, being lead through Capitol streets. She can't of course, she thinks that might amount to high treason, its bad enough she's even on the chariot anyway. At least from what some of the people in the crowds are yelling.

They stand side by side as her fingers itch to grabs his.

Mari does not miss this.

The first time around this was the worst part of it all, surrounded by the enemy. Vulnerable to their gazes and their opinions and their judgement. Dressed up to please them. Mari cant stand it.

She relaxes enough to wave like Finnick is and smile and act like the jeering doesn't affect her. But it does. It ignites the anger running underneath her skin. It doesn't let up when the come to a halt outside President Snow's residence. And it only grows worse when he makes his address to Panem.

Mari knows these Games will be the end of her. She may not die in the arena but there is no part of her that will be able to sit still with this rage any longer.


	23. i just had to let you know

Mari and Finnick take the elevator up to the fourth floor after the parade ends.

They are one of the last to leave because Finnick has to do about fifteen minutes of mandatory flirting. and after that is done Evey does not stop grabbing them into hugs and holding their hands and talking very earnestly about how much she loves them. Eventually, after Mari has reassured her that they will absolutely be ready in time for training, she lets them go.

Her chest tightens immediately once they’re away from prying eyes. She flattens herself into the corner of the elevator, not paying much attention to Finnick, and picks at the knotted ropes wrapped around her- they are starting to _itch_ and Mari is desperate to get the dress off her. She is also trying to ignore the brush of her hair against her waist. Mostly because if she thinks about it too long she will find a knife and she will saw it off so it doesn't touch her shoulders again. That would make Evey throw a fit.

Finnick is eyeing her from across the confined space. The same way he always does when he has something to say but he isn't sure how to say it. It itches at her, like a scratch she can't quite reach. It drags the elevator ride out because she sees it on his face every time it's about to come out, but his mouth stays shut. There are several points that she wants to demand it from him, but that's just her anxiety talking.

The elevator stops at their floor and the doors slide open. She watches Finnick open then close his mouth as he passes her, sparing her this meaningful glance.

“What?” She asks, it comes out more confrontational than she wanted it to, but Finnick doesn’t really seem to notice. Nor does he respond as they make their way down the hall.

She’s still picking at bits of her dress and peeling them away from her skin as Finnick unlocks the door to their suite. His silence at her question irks her, she almost wants to ask again but he wouldn’t say nothing for a reason. So she leaves it for the moment. She kicks her shoes off at the door and stands awkwardly in the room. It feels surreal to be back here and Mari is trying _so hard_ to forget how these are probably the last weeks of her life.

The thought sends burning hot grief through her but she compartmentalises it as quickly as she can. Tearing her eyes from the Capitol skyline out the floor to ceiling windows, they land right on Finnick as she goes to make her way down the hallway to her room.

“Mari-”

She gives him an apologetic look. Partly because she cannot talk to him in earnest while he is barely dressed (she has been avoiding looking at him all night) and partly because she cannot think straight while it feels like her dress is suffocating her.

“Give me a moment.” She mutters, brushing past him.

She makes a beeline down the hall. His footsteps follow her but she can't think over the scratching rope and the hair down her back. Barging into the room she starts tearing open drawers and pulls out a fleece sweatshirt and shorts, she flings them onto the bed. Finnick is in the doorway, she can pay attention to that now, but she starts clawing at the back of her dress anyway. Her fingers run along the length of the rope, trying to find a latch or something so that the ropes release themselves. It’s panic-inducing as she searches blindly- she tries to breathe slowly as it builds in her chest, tightening the longer the dress stays on her.

“ _Fuck_.”

“Do you need help?” He asks, voice even but quiet.

The skin on the back of her neck prickles as her hair raises on end. Everything feels rife with anticipation but she can't for the life of her figure out what for. She doesn’t turn but nods slightly in agreement. Finnick’s footsteps are cautious as he moves toward her, and she shuts her eyes despite herself when she feels him behind her. His breath gentle and only minutely felt on the top of her head, rustling through her hair.

He is careful not to touch her skin as he unclasps the chain behind her neck that she was unable to reach. The dress slackens around her torso and a chill runs down her spine.

“Thanks.” She whispers, eyes wide.

She’s not sure what to do from here.

Whether she goes into the bathroom to untangle herself from the dress, or if she does it here. In front of him. The thought ignites something in her stomach, a rush of butterflies mixed in with a low smouldering that she supposes has always been there.

So far, their relationship has not been that different from what it used to be. They’ve always slept in the same bed, they’ve always been affectionate, they’ve always loved each other really. It’s just the kissing that’s different now- but somehow it has made all the difference. And it’s not that she’s _scared_ to go further than that, it’s not like she’s not had sex before. She just hasn’t done it with Finnick.

Which is the whole thing really.

There are a million different little anxieties that come with that. Is this something he’s interested in? If so, does he want to do it with her? Does he want to do it now? Does she have to worry about comparing to others? And speaking of that, is he going to be okay if they do anything at all? She worries about his well-being most of all- she knows full well that he’s capable of making his own decisions and knowing what he’s ready for but she worries, of course, she worries.

Especially now, on the precipice of the thing.

She takes this deep breath in through her nose and it breaks somewhere on the exhale. She spins around still, meeting his face. His eyes are soft at the edges, concerned almost, but his mouth is fixed into an anxious frown.

“Mari.” He says again, but this time it comes out soaked in desperation.

“Yeah.” She breathes, holding her breath ever so slightly.

“Can I-”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence really, she knows what’s happening. She knows he’s about to tip them over that precipice- that they’re about to cross that line Snow never wanted them to cross. But she wants to hear him say it- after all these years- she wants to hear him say it out loud. Her breath catches in her throat, and for a second she’s afraid he’s going to close his mouth, going to back out of it. It would be fine because she would have to be for him, but _fuck_ she wants it so much more now that it’s entered her head and made a home.

“Can I touch you?” He finally says.

And, if she’s being totally honest with herself, she could cry. She very nearly does, but instead, she just nods her head gently and breathes an ‘ _of course, oh my god, of course_ ’.

“Do- you know I-”, the words fumble in his mouth and she realises that he’s trying to check that she knows what he means. It makes her heart _squeeze_ for a second. But she doesn’t want to get all, _sad_ , about Finnick’s past when he’s making all the first moves- it’s not the time.

She nods again, “Yes.” Mari confirms, “I do.”

“Good.”

The tension that had been building reaches a peak suddenly as his eyes flit briefly to her mouth. She takes a sharp inhale as he careens forward and presses his lips against hers. From the way he had approached it all- slow and tentative- Mari almost expects him to be fumbling, like people are when they do these things for the first time. But it’s not, _obviously,_ it’s not.

The kiss is mostly gentle at first, insistent but still yielding. He lets her push back, her hands drift up to his bare shoulders so she can get on her tiptoes and move her mouth against his with equal force, with equal willingness. The ropes of her parade outfit are slipping off her shoulders and sliding down her arms- but there’s still an iridescent slip on underneath so she doesn’t concern herself with the mess right now.

It doesn’t bother her as much, not with Finnick’s hand slipping down her back.

She doesn’t realise she’s growing lightheaded until her mouth slips open and his tongue, wet and hot, snakes into hers. A groan spills accidentally from her throat, muffled mostly by the press of their mouths, but it’s _enough_. The hand on her back slides to grip her waist and the other one ends up wound into the hair at the base of her neck. With the grip on her hair, he _tugs_ , guiding her head back just slightly to kiss her in a way that makes her knees weak. As he’s doing it he slowly urges her backward so she hits the dresser. It presses into the small of her back, she ignores it for the moment.

Through all the giddiness Mari realises her hands are still braced against his shoulders like she’s almost scared to touch the rest of him. Tentatively, as Finnick takes a moment to breathe against the corner of her mouth, her hands slide from his shoulders. One hand ends up wrapped around his bicep and the other is laid flat against his collarbone and nestled up to his neck. She feels his lips move to start saying something against her cheek but she turns her head and presses an open-mouthed kiss against his lips. Urging his open, she pushes her body up into him, bracing her hand on the drawers and using the other to slide around to his neck.

Mari ends up sitting on the edge of the dresser, forced up by the press of Finnick’s torso and her arm. She hangs halfway off so that Finnick can settle between her legs and she can wind her arms around his neck to pull him closer to her. It’s fine, it's the same as before until his bottom lip ends up between her teeth. Intentional on her part. She holds it there for a second before letting go, but the moment that she releases, Finnick is hoisting her forward into his arms

She gasps briefly but wraps her legs around his torso on instinct. He doesn’t quite pull her away from the drawer yet, so she’s still got something to fall back onto but he’s pretty much holding her up now. The movement disconnected their mouths and Finnick now has his forehead pressed against hers, eyes half shut until he looks up into hers.

“Hey.” She whispers, trying to catch her breath in between the excitement and exertion.

“Huh.” His eyelids flutter a little, breath fanning across her face, “Hmm?”

“You okay?” She asks, “Is this okay?”

He nods gently, earnest expression lighting up his eyes, “With you, always.”

Mari can't help the smile that drifts across her lips, the confirmation that he’s fine is good. She’s about to say something else, another reassurance maybe, when she’s cut off by Finnick hoisting her the rest of the way into his arms. She has to admit the strength of that alone makes her knees a little bit weak, but she barely has time to dwell on it because his mouth is on her again. There’s nothing that different about the actual thing but something about the force with which he is kissing her betrays a kind of desperation that wasn’t the same before. She meets him with the same desperation.

It’s easy to tilt into him with just as much force as he is with her, his arms are firm around her leaving her with little concern that she’ll fall. Even if she did it probably wouldn’t be so bad. Something coils tight in her abdomen as her hands migrate to his face, holding his mouth firmly to hers as if he’s going to break away anytime soon. His tongue slips into her mouth again and her breath hitches, even though this had happened just before everything feels more intense now. Like being set on fire and left to burn.

“ _Shit_.” Finnick groans breathlessly still latched onto her mouth.

Mari can't help her laugh.

It’s exhilarating. If she ignores the impending doom and their likely deaths. It’s the best thing that’s happened to her in- _well_ , probably in her whole life. Because this is _Finnick_ and she’d be a fucking _liar_ if she were to deny that she’d been thinking about since she first started thinking about sex. She’d be willing to bet that he was the same with her as well. It’s a little tragic, how long it took, but they’re here now.

“Put me down.” She mutters teasingly.

As much as she likes being held like this Finnick doesn’t have endless strength, he can't do this forever. She expects him to lower her to the ground, to let her feet touch the floor. But she interprets the smirk on his mouth too late and he spins around to practically fling her onto the bed. Lucky for him she lands firmly in the middle of the bed, even if a bit ungracefully.

She groans in frustration, “Be _careful_.” She scolds, arms tangled in the mess of her dress that she’d almost completely forgotten about.

But he just gets this half mischievous, half reverent look in his eyes and climbs onto the bed with her. She shifts over slightly so he can lay next to her, but intentionally not enough that there’s much room in between them. Gently, he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from her face- she leans into his hand before he can take it away, pressing a light kiss onto it while keeping her eyes on his.

He smiles softly, “I love you.”

Her heart swells like she’s hearing it for the first time again, “I love you too.”

The hand on her cheek travels slowly down to her shoulder, where white rope hangs loosely off her body. He gingerly pushes it off her until she has to sit up, untangle it all and discard it on the floor. She giggles ever so slightly against his forehead as she settles back next to him, still wearing the iridescent dress.

Finnick winds a finger around the thin strap of the thing, he presses his mouth to the spot just below her ear, “Should’ve taken this off too.”

Mari feels the heat rise to her cheeks, she burrows her face into the crook of his neck to hide it. She’s not really embarrassed per se, but it’s been a long time since she’s done anything like this and again- this is _Finnick_. Of course, she blushes.

“Shut up.” She mumbles, she ends up dragging her teeth gently down his neck to deflect her response, he sighs softly, “Just because you’re wearing _basically_ nothing.”

She’d forgotten about that as well, but now that they’re talking about clothes (or lack thereof) it’s all she can do to stop her thoughts about it from being completely all-consuming.

“Don’t think about it.” Finnick laughs.

She tries not to, as he shifts to hover over her, his elbow bent next to her head so he can lean down to kiss her without pressing all his weight on her. She shuffles further to the left so that he’s practically hanging over her and presses up into his mouth. Meeting his eager kiss with one just as eager from her. It starts off slow like the rest of it but eventually, she ends up with her dress hitched halfway up her thighs and Finnick’s hand wound tightly into her long hair- which she is starting to hate much less right now.

His hand is sliding across her collar and down the side of her torso and back over and over, occasionally stopping to drift toward the strap on her dress, she finds a second to force a few words out, “Take it off.”

He falters for a moment, lips going still against hers before finding a rhythm again, “Huh?”

“Take it off.” She repeats.

He stops then, pressing his forehead to hers, “You sure?”

She nods firmly, “I’m sure.”

So he does- his eyes are full of that reverence again when he pulls away and she sits up so he can shuffle the thing off her. It bunches up around her torso and he helps her pull it up over her head. She fights the overwhelming urge to huddle up against him so that he can’t look at her like this but instead settles for squeezing her eyes shut briefly and not meeting his eyes after she opens them again.

“Look at me.”

She tips her head back, “As long as you don't say anything.”

He chuckles, amused, “Okay.”

She puts her head back down and before she can even make eye contact with him she can see he’s opening his mouth to talk.

“ _Finn_.” She warns.

A slow grin spreads across his face despite her, he bends forward to give her this long, insistent kiss. Hand on her neck and the other drifting up and down, fingertips on her bare skin, “You’re beautiful.”

Part of her wants to smack him for saying it, even if it is a little irrational. But mostly she just wants his lips on hers again. If a little bit aggressive, she winds a hand to the back of his head and knocks it forward. He ends up working a red mark into the skin at the base of her throat, she can't bring herself to care who sees it tomorrow. She can't bring herself to care about tomorrow either.

Mari ends up with Finnick’s body pressed in between her legs, one bent to keep her propped up against the headboard and the other tangled haphazardly with his in some strange way. He kisses her until she goes lightheaded again and at some point, she finds the hand that's not wound into his hair sliding down his body. They unwind the skirt of rope much the same as they had with her dress and when that’s done Mari ends up with her legs wrapped the whole way around his torso.

She tries to commit the whole thing to memory really, who knows when they will get the chance to do this again. Maybe never.

His mouth, hot and feverish against her skin, everywhere it can reach within reason. The scrape of teeth, the push of his tongue. The slant of his hips, moving in a way that makes her toes curl. Strong corded muscle under her hands and pressed up against her limbs. His skin is smooth in a way she’s never really realised before, only now pressed up against him can she admire it. The various noises he lets escape him during the whole process, she feels pride at having weaned some of them from him. The way his hands shake against her skin when he first eases his way in, not from the effort but from the intimacy of it. It starts an ache in her chest that eventually tips her over the edge when combined with the coil in her gut.

She has littered his shoulder with marks, most of which will fade by morning but more than likely there will be evidence of at least a few. Especially with the sleeveless training uniforms. Finnick has done something similar with her neck and for once she is grateful for the long hair.

She has no doubt he is trying to commit her body to memory as well, his hands grab and smooth and grip as they come down. He breathes hard, taking in air rapidly as he eases from her and collapses on the bed.

There’s not much to say after, only a few shared jokes and a quick trip to the bathroom. Under the covers she kisses him again, firm and insistent, and tries to put into words how much she loves him. It doesn't come out properly though so she kisses him again and settles into his arms like they don't have to wake up early to train tomorrow. Like they’re sleeping in a bed together in a dingy upstairs apartment back in District Four. Like she could wake up and this would all be a dream.


	24. through the right eyes

There isn’t any time to savour the morning once the alarm goes off. But Finnick grabs her anyway, arms wound tight around her- keeping her firmly in place against his chest as she tries to untangle herself from the covers to start getting ready.

“We promised Evey.” Mari protests as he presses an open mouthed kiss to her neck, “We told her we would be on time.”

Finnick sighs from his nose, still nuzzled into her shoulder, then says evenly, “Evey’s time constraints do not consider that we are going into the arena in four days to die.”

He is well-meaning but it doesn’t stop the jolt of terror that runs through her at the thought. He’s right, in the end- it forces her to restructure her priorities. They have to savour every spare second that they have together, because soon enough there will be a very finite limit on those seconds. She can abandon her promise to Evey if she remembers that, and it is not hard to remember when he is here pressed up against her and all she can think about is losing him to the Games.

They are not late when everything is done with. They’re clean with food in their stomachs and dressed in the training uniforms soon enough. The only thing is the purpling bruise that peeks slightly from the collar of Mari’s shirt- she thinks briefly about covering it with makeup, but what reason is there to hide it now? This late in the whole thing when Snow has already made it clear that they are being punished. What is one more transgression to a dictator who already has it out for them?

It’s in the hallway waiting for the elevator that it starts to suffocate her. The familiarity of the situation, the unfairness of it. It rises in her throat, white-hot and rapid. It has always been like this, like her stress response does not always lead to panic- but instead to anger. Because she  _ should _ be panicking right now, everything points to that as the logical reaction she should be having. But she’s not, she can’t. All Mari can feel is the fury surging through her veins.

And the helplessness, simmering in the background. She’s staving it off with the anger, keeping it at bay as to not let it take over. The sinking realisation that there is nothing at all she can do to stop what is in motion. The reality that her worst nightmare is going to play itself out in realtime and she is going to have to live through it again, but this time knowing what comes at the end.

The elevator doors slide open and Mari comes careening out of her own head. There is nothing she can do, it is what it is and she’s not just going to roll over and give up. She has her anger.

“So,” Finnick says, settling against the wall of the elevator, “Allies? Any preferences.”

Truthfully she hadn’t been thinking about that, all that had been running through her head when she wasn’t thinking about Finnick was just how to keep Finnick alive. Though she probably should have factored allies into there somewhere.

Mari shrugs, “Do your thing. We’ll decide later.”

A slow, amused smile spreads across his face, “ _ Do my thing? _ ”

“Yeah.” Mari rolls her eyes good naturedly, “The flirting.”

He laughs, tipping his head back to rest against the wall, he shuts his eyes briefly then rolls his head to look at her, “What- are you  _ jealous _ ?”

Mari’s tongue catches against her left incisor as she rolls her eyes again, fighting the smirk that threatens, she makes levelled eye-contact with Finnick as he grins at her, “Sure.  _ I’m _ jealous… I’m the one who gets to kiss you. I am not  _ jealous _ .”

“You get to do more than kiss me.”

A jolt runs through her at the memory of last night but she pins him with a warning look anyway as the elevator begins to slow to a stop. He only smirks as the doors slide open onto the training floor.

Mari hasn’t seen the training gym since she was here for her Games seven years ago so it’s not exactly the most welcome sight. It’s different enough to not remind her too much of the past though. She remembers it having basic weapons and a couple of small training courses but from a glance they’ve upgraded it for the Quarter Quell. There’s specialty weapons for each of the victors littered across the gym, a trident hung up against the wall for Finnick, an axe for Johanna, Katniss’ bow and arrows and there’s a rack of various weapons by a pillar with a shining cutlass machete just for Mari.

She has to resist the itch that tells her to go straight for it.

Looking around there aren’t too many people here yet; but Mari had expected that really. She imagines half the Victors won't even get out of bed. She spares a quick glance at Finnick but he’s looking around and taking the gym in and Mari doesn’t want it to seem to the others like she’s waiting on him, so she turns away.

She and Finnick had done a decent amount of training together after the Quarter Quell announcement and Mari has built back up a lot of her muscle and endurance, so she’s not particularly worried, but she also knows it would be stupid to neglect that now just days before they go back in. So she leaves Finnick to his own devices and joins one of the instructors at a sparring station. The fight is just challenging enough that it doesn’t feel pointless but Mari gets in a fairly swift victory and it reassures her that she’s not completely helpless and has definitely retained some modicum of skill from her Games.

Her hair is definitely too long though. The instructor had grabbed at it and  _ pulled _ one too many times and Mari vows to cut it off the moment she gets into the arena.

The gym seems a little more full after the sparring than it had before, she recognises all the faces around her at least a little bit but it’s always been Finnick’s job to form alliances and generally handle the people pleasing so she leaves the talking to him. She steps off the mat toward the rack of weapons and watches him start up a conversation with Peeta at the camouflage station.

It’s all she can do to hope that no one is watching when she picks the machete off the rack and steps through a door into a fight simulator. She presses a few buttons on the wall even though she doesn’t really know what any of them mean and gets ready.

It’s almost painful how quickly instinct kicks in when the first dummy materialises in front of her. The machete feels natural, like an extension of her actual arm as she careens forward and buries the blade into its neck. She’s not really held one of these since her time in the arena- the only blades she’d touched were kitchen knives and knives to carve and gut fish- but it’s startling how at home this blade feels in her hand. Mari had plenty of options in the arena, all sorts of weapons to pick off of dead bodies and out of the quickly abandoned Cornucopia, but something about the curve and the glint of this one had drawn her to in a sick twisted kind of way. It’s the length of it too, short enough that she has to get close to them. She prefers that because somehow the idea of killing someone from ten feet away strikes more terror into her than getting up close does. But in the end it’s kind of like a punishment for herself, it means she has to look the person in the eyes when she kills them.

Another figure comes in at her from the left and then seconds later one from behind and then all of a sudden there’s the thrum of blood in her ears and her body is acting of its own volition. Slicing and spinning and dodging and stabbing, as figure after figure explodes into pieces where she hits them. When the simulation is over she’s breathing hard and is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, with bits of hair sticking to her waist.

Heaving, she pushes herself up from her knees and heads out of the room. She almost forgets to put the machete back but manages it at the last second before she gets too far away from the rack.

Johanna is leaning up against the pillar on the way out, hair bundled up into a high ponytail. She has her arms crossed over her chest and has her eyes narrowed in Mari’s direction.

“Show off.” Johanna rolls her eyes.

Mari raises an eyebrow as she swipes the perspiration from her forehead.

“Everyone was watching you, you know.”

Mari snorts, “Yeah, I think that’s the whole  _ point _ , Johanna.’

Usually, Mari would brush off Johanna’s hostility and continue the conversation. It’s just how she is- aggressive and standoffish and Mari can't blame her with what she’s been through. But now, under the current circumstances, Mari just leaves her standing by herself. She doesn’t have the patience for it and she cant help but view everyone that isn't Finnick as a threat right now, even though she knows that isn’t going to be a viable option when they actually get into the arena. Though,  _ again _ , making allies is more Finnick’s department.

Eventually, Mari ends up at the knot tying station. It’s not like she needs the practice, she and Finnick were raised learning how to tie every knot under the sun. Out on the docks all day in summer helping his Dad secure the boat, make fishing nets, tie down cargo. She could tie practically any knot with her eyes closed, admittedly there are a few knots for animal traps that she could stand to learn but she’s not particularly worried about those. Snow won't be making his Victors use traps to find food, she’s been in this long enough to know that that wouldn't be good entertainment- a waste of their potential.

She’s here mostly as a break to let the adrenaline and rage settle. Besides, no one will bother her here. Finnick maybe, but no one else is interested in knot tying.

Mari eats her words soon after though, when she sees Katniss eyeing the station from across the room- and Mari knows she’s coming over likely before even Katniss does. She’s cautious, like she’s approaching a wild animal- slow on her way over, stopping at various stations before she’s standing in front of Mari, peering down at her work.

“You should loop that under not over.” Katniss says, “It’ll be more secure.”

Mari glances up. There’s a moment where she wants to scowl and reject Katniss’ advice but she quickly realises that Katniss is probably right. It was obvious from her Games that she’d had experience with hunting before too, so Mari undoes part of the knot and loops it like she says. It does feel tighter.

“Thanks.” Mari smiles, “I’m used to fishing knots.”

Katniss sits in the stool across from her and grabs a few pieces of rope. She’s quiet.

“How’d you know that?” Mari asks.

Katniss blinks as she makes quick work of a knot in her hands, “My friend back home taught me how to make traps.” She hesitates for a second, then looks up at Mari, “You weren’t all that bad though. How’d you learn those in District Four?”

“I learned them during my games,” Mari shrugs, untangling the rope in her fingers, “It’s hard to stab in dark caves. I had to figure out how to trap my food.”

Katniss nods slowly. Mari wonders if it’s strange for her to hear about other people's time in the arena- Mari remembers it was for her for the first few months. And Katniss hasn't really had much time to adjust. Surely it isn't all that reassuring to know you’re up against Victors with years of experience when you have less than one either.

In the time before they’re all called for lunch she and Katniss mostly just sit in amicable silence. Mari asks a few questions and Katniss answers them in short sentences but Mari gets the sense that’s not because Mari’s bothering her but more from the fact that she doesn’t have a lot to offer up. It’s clear pretty immediately that if she and Finnick want Katniss as an ally that she is not going to be won over by his charms- it’s up to Mari. Though she also gets the sense that no amount of trying on her behalf is going to help Katniss along, she’ll come to that decision on her own. Mari just has to hope that she’s trustworthy enough.

Katniss watches Marina during lunch.

It’s not so odd to see her relaxed anymore, not after seeing how she’d been at the knots station. She wasn’t as good at knot tying as Gale but she seemed settled there, calm and confident in her abilities. She seems the same now, laughing next to Finnick. Again, Katniss can't quite tell if the lack of distance between them is just friendship or something more than that.

It is easy to forget they are all murderers here. But Katniss cannot, even with all the smiles and laughs and hugs. Katniss cannot make herself forget that everyone in this room- except for Peeta of course- has killed another person. Even Mari, who seemed so kind and gentle and unassuming before at the station. Though, when Katniss looks,  _ really _ looks, she can see it.

And earlier, when Mari had been training in the simulation, Katniss hadn’t been able to turn off the distinct feeling of alarm while watching her fight. There was a distinct ring of efficiency to it all and an obvious natural affinity for violence. Cutting down the targets like they were absolutely  _ nothing _ \- like obstacles in her path that needed to be eliminated as quickly as possible. Though, it’s not like Mari is something entirely different than the others. Katniss has seen the same efficiency and lethality on most of the rest of them throughout the day, but there is something to say for contrast with Mari.

The long blonde hair, the shining blue doe-eyes and the small frame. She looks, by all means, nothing like a threat. Like something pure and innocent. But every now and then Katniss notices the set of her jaw and all the rage that hides behind her eyes- and the lethality of course. It’s terrifying really.

Katniss could almost be fooled into thinking that she only appears strong relative to her stature, but after lunch she sits at one of the stations with Peeta and watches her spar with Finnick.

Finnick has at least two or three heads on her and Peeta says something about being worried for Mari because it’s clear Finnick is going to beat her. Katniss doesn’t say anything but there are several things she thinks that mean that that isn’t going to happen, at least not very easily. And at first she thinks maybe Peeta is right because Finnick anticipates Mari’s initial move and blocks it before she can land anything. But it isn’t long until she’s twisting and turning and landing hits, Peeta makes a little ‘ _ huh _ ’ noise and returns to his work.

They end up sparring for about twenty minutes, for every second of which Katniss’ eyes are glued to them. She’s not sure if either of them strictly beat the other, she puts that down to their closeness though, it’s obvious they’ve trained together before and frequently. Like how she knows every move that Peeta makes in a fistfight and he knows every move she makes. But it's also clear they’re both a bit exhausted from the effort. Finnick is strong and lighter on his feet than Katniss would expect from him, but Mari is faster and more flexible. She’s strong of course but it's her agility that really helps her.

Katniss files it all away for later.

She forgets them for a while, spends some time in one of the target rooms with her bow and arrow and comes out to see the whole room watching. Then after she has dodged too many questions and propositions and offers of small talk she finds Finnick and Mari making fish hooks over a table together.

Like before with the knot station, Katniss isn't sure if she should join them. But with Peeta over with the Morphlings and Johanna Mason peering at her like a cut of meat, Katniss finds herself over there anyway. To her relief Finnick doesn’t give her the same flirtatious look he usually does, just an amused smile as Katniss sits down to watch Mari work.

After a small nudge from Finnick, Mari looks up at Katniss, “Hi again.” She smiles, “Are you here to tell me I’m wrong again?”

“Oh.” Katniss shakes her head, “No- no. I- those are beautiful. I just wanted to watch.”

Mari looks down at the hook she’s bending into shape- wound around with a thin cord and littered with feathers and a small shining pebble- then back at Katniss. Like she shocked Katniss would think this was some kind of admirable skill.

“Hardly.” She mutters, “They’re fiddly but they’re not that difficult to make.”

Finnick smiles fondly at Mari and Katniss feels almost as if she’s interrupting something intimate, then he turns back to Katniss and holds up his hook- similar, but not with the same craftsmanship as Mari’s, “She’s being modest, mine’s awful.”

Mari rolls her eyes but says nothing. Katniss gathers a couple of the same things that Mari seems to have and starts to put together something, but Katniss has never been good with things this delicate. That has always been Prim, sweet sensitive Prim.

“I could help you, you know.” Mari says after a few moments, breaking the silence, “You helped me with the knots earlier. I think I owe it to you.”

“Please.”

With Mari’s guidance and a few quips from Finnick, after a good ten minutes later Katniss has something that's almost as good as the hook Finnick has in front of him. It breaks after Katniss picks it up but Mari tells her not to worry, that the actual hook is the most important part, not the feathers or the pebble.

They sit in silence some more, which would usually be perfect on Katniss’ end, but Katniss can’t help the question that grates at her. She’d been ignoring it the whole time because it had seemed so stupid when people had asked  _ her _ \- the answer was obvious, so clear. She doesn’t want to make Mari resent her when things had been going so well so far. But in the end she cant help it.

It comes out suddenly, before Katniss can stop it, “Why did you volunteer for that girl?”

Mari’s face goes blank for a moment, Finnick goes pale and his jaw sets in this way and Katniss thinks she’s screwed up massively. But it’s only a second before colour bleeds back into Mari’s cheeks and her face goes soft and sad.

“I promised her.” Mari says quietly, “She’s been through so much, I couldn’t let her do it again.”

Mari says more after that, not much, but more. But Katniss isn’t really listening because she is weighing the meaning of that sentence in her head. The thing about Marina Fischer is the contrast. There is the lethality, the burning hot anger and the glint of violence behind her eyes. The way she comes alive when blood is spilled. Then there is the Marina Fischer who is kind and smiles softly and helps Katniss makes fish hooks because she owes it to her and volunteers to die for a girl because she isn’t strong enough to do it all again- even when that means the likely end of her life, even when the easy thing to do would be to let the other girl go in. She is terrifying,  _ sure _ , but Katniss thinks it is in a different way from the others.

Later, Katniss tells Haymitch that she wants Mari as an ally.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading!! this is crossposted on my wattpad (@/grgweasleys) so don't fret if u see it there.


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